


Captain America (Vol 1)

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Disability, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Movies references, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, but not much of that i promise you this has a happy ending, comics references and easter eggs, internalized ableism, steve is a seb stan, this is meta af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 16:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20969822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes co-create the Captain America comics and fall in love during the process.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being much longer than I expected lmao
> 
> Anyway so basically this is an AU with no superpowers bc they all live in the same boring universe as we do. The only thing that remains closer to the comics/MCU it’s Tony ig, because the guy’s extra af and advanced technology and being capable of buying the whole universe are a very big part of his character so I feel like toning it down would feel OOC. But then again he doesn’t even appear much.
> 
> It’s also worth pointing out that Bucky here is an amputee, so I took a bit of liberty with his prosthetics. I tried to keep the focus on him coming to terms with his body as it is now and his mental state, and not so much about the mechanisms or functioning of the prosthetic arm so please don’t be harsh on that (and sorry for any inaccuracies about the American education system, too, I did my best).
> 
> Another thing I’d like to point out it’s that I have barely read the comics so it’s mostly based on the movies, but there are a few comic easter eggs here and there. Nothing heavy tho.
> 
> Finally and most importantly: many many thanks to my lovely friend and beta @teenytabris 😭😭 she’s the reason this is even understandable. She went through such a bother to review it and even helped me rewrite a few scenes here and there so they were better; and she helped me with the title and with dividing this in chapters so it'd be easier for anyone to read. She’s the most patient and coolest person ever, thank you Gracey for helping me make sense of this mess 😭❤️❤️
> 
> Enjoy!

The shield is the first thing that catches his eye as soon as he opens the notebook. In an instant he finds himself unable to keep from smiling wide at his creation.

In the page rests a rough sketch of a bulky, blond dude with a tight suit and a shield the colors of the American flag. _ Captain America, _ the caption reads in pencil at the bottom of the page, _ By Steve Rogers. _

Steve is so proud. He’s gotten so much better at drawing these past months. He’s been drawing the Captain since he was a child, maybe ten or so, after a bad cold turned into pneumonia and left him lying in a hospital bed for the whole summer — yes, summer, he was the only person on Earth who could get _ that _ sick when it was so hot and sunny. He was so pissed about missing his birthday and watching the fireworks from a hospital window that he pictured himself as this almighty dude who could beat anyone or anything. 

(The whole _ ‘America’ _ thing came easily to him, since he was born on the 4th of July.)

Ever since then, every little coincidence, detail, or obsession became a part of his drawings, of the things he associated with this powerful alter ego of his. The super-soldier thing and the World War II setting? They came after that time in middle school when he had skipped too many history classes because of an infection and needed to study in depth in order to pass with his class, and he needed to memorize it quickly. He ended up liking it so much that it stuck.

As for Peggy Carter? His first girlfriend, the first girl (that wasn’t his mom, of course) that hadn’t laughed in his face when he had told her he made comics in his free time, and who actually took seriously and understood everything he was not saying with words but communicating through his drawings.

Things had never made much sense with Peggy, though. He did think he’d fallen for her for at the beginning; how could he not? She was smart, clever and independent. But it turned out to be just infatuation, and he had a feeling it was more or less the same for her. They made much more sense as friends, but people like a hero with a romantic interest, and Steve had no other experience, so he asked Peggy if he could keep her character in his drafts. She was kind enough to let him, even after they had broken up that summer for good and she left to finish her college studies in her homeland, England.

And finally, as for Sarah Rogers? Honestly, he tried not to think much about her — it still hurt so bad, how his mama had raised him on her own after his dad had died in a car accident and she had died too, not long after Steve had gotten into an art college. His shitty immune system was hereditary, she’d been sick all her life too. She’d never been able to get healthy, and she overworked herself since Steve was little to send him to a good school. She’d made it, but it had cost her her life. A bone-deep tiredness brought sickness after sickness until one day she couldn’t recover.

It was why Steve fought so hard to keep the scholarship everyday, overworking himself —just like his ma— and drawing until his eyes stung and his fingers couldn’t move anymore. It had cost him sleep and potential friends, but he didn’t care. It was finally starting to pay off. Plus, he couldn’t back off now: this was his senior year and he was decided on making a first Captain America volume as his final project. His favorite professor, Mr. Erskine, had already agreed to be his tutor.

He was going to make it. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was definitely going to live off his comics someday.

* * *

So there’s this guy.

His name is James Buchanan Barnes. His friends call him Bucky, and Steve finds the nickname ridiculous but he’s in no place to speak — he shouldn’t even be so aware of a guy he hasn’t ever talked to, but he can’t help it. He finds himself attracted to the sturdiness of his body, the strong shoulders, the thick legs. He’s got a gorgeous face too, the fucker, as if that isn’t enough.

And he’s an amputee.

It shouldn’t matter that much. In fact Steve doesn’t care about the missing left arm; but he does think a lot on the effect it has on Bucky’s mindset and self-image. You see, art and writing majors shared a Storytelling course and Bucky had read one or two poems made of complicated, heart-wrenching metaphors that screamed _ LOSS _ in big capital letters and had made Steve’s chest ache with bittersweetness during the day and go hard during the night thinking _ ‘This guy gets it. He’s incomplete like me.’ _

So yeah. There’s this guy, Bucky.

Storytelling is Steve’s first class, at an unholy 7 AM and he’s always there first because the weaknesses of his body had never let him sleep through the whole night. No matter how tired he is, he always aches.

And just like Steve, Bucky is always like 20 minutes early, too.

At this point (a week and a half into the course) they should probably be past the point of greeting each other with a nod and a smile and taking up their seats; but Steve can’t muster the courage to say anything else to him, so he just follows the routine and goes back to drawing.

That’s why it startles him when Bucky’s voice feels a little too close when he whispers,

“You’re always drawing.”

Steve closes the notebook instinctively and looks up at him. Bucky is standing next to his seat.

“Yeah. I’m an art major.”

“I know. Steven, right? Can I call you Steve?”

“Sure. I actually like that better.”

Bucky gives him a friendly smile. “Great! Can I see your drawings?”

Steve grimaces. “I don’t think they’ll interest you. Your stuff is...deeper.”

“Hey, just because it’s superhero stuff doesn’t mean it can’t be deep, or that it won’t interest me.” At Steve’s surprised expression, Bucky nods. “Yes, I’ve paid attention. You’re a really great artist.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, blushing a little. He’s not used to getting compliments, and he’s not used to showing his art to others, even less to them getting attention. It’s something he has to work on, he knows, but some things are hard to unlearn.

So, in the first days of the course, Mr. Erskine had given them an assignment to write a short story. Steve’s strength wasn’t writing that so in order to compensate he made a few drawings that he projected on the screen while he read a little vignette about Cap. The minute he had stood up to show his work, a good part of the class had immediately lost attention, and the minute he started talking about it being a superhero story it was even less of them. It was okay, he was used to this: he was scrawny and small and a lot of college people were snobs that thought they were better than guys fighting crime in spandex suits.

Steve wasn’t the one for shyness, but he never looked at Bucky, because he just knew he would lose track of what he was reading if he did. That’s probably why it surprised him that such a cool guy like Bucky had actually paid attention to him.

“...So?” Bucky presses, already stretching his hand to reach Steve’s sketchbook. “Can I?”

Steve thinks, _fuck_. And then he thinks _if_ _I wanna make it I have to start showing everyone my work. Even the cool guy I have the biggest crush on, and even if it means he will think I’m a big nerd._

(He was a big nerd anyway.)

“All right,” Steve says, then pauses. Perhaps this is a chance to get to know Bucky better? “But you have to show me your stuff too.”

Bucky seems to consider it for a second. Eventually, an amused smile creeps across his face.

“Deal. We’ll exchange after class.”

Steve nods, smiling. Then a thought occurs to him. “Why are you always so early here, by the way?” He knows it’s probably impolite to ask but he can’t help his curiosity.

Bucky’s expression falls. “Um. I don’t sleep much.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

Steve senses he asked something sensitive so he tries to play it lightly. “An artist’s thing, right? I consider myself lucky when I get five hours of sleep. I need to be drawing all the time.”

“An artist’s thing, definitely,” Bucky’s voice sounds far away, lost in thought. But then he snaps out of it and smiles at Steve and _ Christ _, that should be illegal. He points at Steve’s notebook. “So, what is it about?”

Before Steve can even answer, Bucky is already pulling out the chair next to him and asking, “You know what? Mind if I sit with you?”

“Of course not,” Steve answers, a little dazed. It’s not that he has low self-esteem; he knows he’s much more worth than his tiny frail body, but it’s still weird. People like Bucky usually don’t even spare him a second glance. They must paint quite a picture, he thinks, but he’s not the one to comment on that — not when Bucky is smiling at him like that, making conversation.

The class ends up being about Mr. Erskine giving them the time to work on their final degree projects while he checks the first drafts of those he tutors individually; and, except for when it’s time for Steve and Bucky to talk to him separately and explain their projects, they end up talking instead of working for the whole class and realizing they have much more in common than they thought. Bucky is actually a comic book nerd too, so they end up talking about Steve’s influences in both his characters and his drawing style.

It’s probably the most enjoyable class Steve’s ever had.

* * *

Mr. Erskine is a gentle but demanding teacher. He’s one of the few people that have believed in Steve since he got into college and has motivated him and taught him a lot. He’s also one of the very few people that know most details about Steve’s characters and storylines, which is why he picked him to be his tutor. Steve loves how he’s not judgemental at all and encourages him to include more of his feelings in the story. There’s really not much to talk to him for this first draft, because he’s already seen it, so Steve just reaffirms a few fundamental aspects of the basic story outline and character designs.

Mr. Erskine has already given him so much feedback through all those years that he doesn’t have much more to add. The only thing he tells him is that Steve needs to focus, and if he really, really wants to do this comic, he’s going to have to work really hard.

“I know. I’m prepared for it,” Steve says confidently.

Mr. Erskine gives him a look that says, _ You don’t know what you’re talking about; _ but Steve is grateful that he doesn’t dwell on how much work actually goes into making those things. Steve is aware of it from an abstract point of view, but he’s got to live through it.

“Oh, and another thing. I mean, this is not obligatory but it might be a good thing to add a romantic interest. Superhero comics don’t focus on romance, but a little bit of it it’s always good. It serves as a good motivation for the hero and people love that kind of thing.” Erskine frowns a little bit. “Actually, I think you had told me once that you were planning on including your girlfriend in it, and sorry if I’m prying too much, but what happened with that? Did she not give you her permission?”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. Peggy and I broke up during the summer.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Rogers. But you’re gonna have to stay focused. It is after all, your senior year.”

“I know,” Steve says, easily. He already had gotten over it.

* * *

_ this is a collection of fragments of one fucked up man _

_ if found, please, _

_ just burn the damn thing _

_ J. B. B. _

* * *

** _a warning_ **

_ (entry #1) _

_ trust me when i tell you _

_ that the least fucked up about me _

_ is my arm _

_ J. B. B. _


	2. Chapter 2

Steve feels exposed and raw the next morning, like someone has peered into the darkest corners of his mind.

He wonders how Bucky does it, how he can write the most powerful sentences in the world, powerful enough to leave him feeling shaken since the night before. And even though it was the other way around (after all, it was him who read Bucky’s journal), it felt like looking into a goddamn mirror. Steve feels so embarrassed because this guy is so deep and troubled and kind, while he… well, he’s just a dumb nerd who draws guys in tight suits who fight monsters.

He feels so self-conscious and nervous that he does the only thing that can make him anxious and calm at the same time: drawing. At least it’ll distract his mind from thinking he’s about to see Bucky Barnes and will have to look him in the eye.

And it works. Eventually he becomes so absorbed in what he’s trying to put on paper that he doesn’t register when Bucky enters the classroom until he drops Steve’s notebook in the table. Steve gives a start.

“This,” Bucky pauses dramatically, “is fucking awesome.”

Steve immediately feels himself blushing.

(Bucky is not wearing his prosthetic that day. He sometimes does that, not that Steve has noticed).

“Hey Buck,” he babbles stupidly, then blushes deeper. “Bucky,” he corrects himself and tries to change the subject so Bucky will pay no mind to his dumb mistake. “You think?”

Bucky’s little grin tells him he did notice his slip up.“You can call me Buck, it’s okay,” he assures. “And yes, I do! This is incredible! Your art is crazy good.”

This is no good for Steve’s arrhythmia.

“Thank you,” he coughs. “I read your journal.”

“Oh? And what did you think?”

He wants to say,  _ It’s like you dove into my soul, picked up the ugliest pieces and turned them into something beautiful. _

Instead he just settles for, “Breathtaking. I might’ve teared up a little bit but I’ll deny it if you tell anyone else.”

Bucky seems slightly embarrassed, but calm. Steve wonders how it must be like to be so put together.

“Thanks.”

Steve smiles. “It’s the truth.”

Bucky sits next to him and they both give their overall impressions on each other’s work; nothing too deep, however, because the class begins before they can dwell in all they have to say to the other. But then Mr. Erskine gives a twenty minute lecture and gives them the rest of the class to work, which is not what Steve and Bucky end up doing.

“Have you never thought of giving Cap a sidekick, though? He just seems so lonely.” Bucky points out before Steve can even pretend he was going to take his pencil and draw. It seems like Bucky was holding this question for a while, which amuses him.

“You think?”

“Well, yeah, he’s out of his time. Everyone he knew is gone and he’s trying desperately to adapt to a whole different world. Oh, and he fights crime. That must take a huge toll on him, and he’s got no one to share it with. No friends.”

Steve knows where this is heading and he doesn’t like it.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Hmm. You know, as a writer I know that there’s always something autobiographical about our work.” Steve closes his eyes, waiting for the punch. Bucky even makes a little pause because he’s a jerk, and finally presses.

“So... no friends?”

Steve hates him a little for it, but there’s no way he can resist those curious blue eyes.

“Not when I was a kid, no. I was even more sickly than I am now so I was homeschooled.”

“Man, that sucks. But didn’t you play with the kids in your neighborhood?”

Steve shrugs.“They usually bullied me. And I never let them intimidate me so we ended up fighting, even if I usually lost. There was one friend, though.” He remembers Arnie Roth every now and then, wonders what became of him. “But he moved far away from me and I never saw him again. So I can’t get permission to include him.”

“I see. Well, you can probably make something up — maybe have Cap being more of a tutor figure to someone? Like training a kid or something. Maybe a Batman-and-Robin-vibes-kinda-thing. It would be kinda cute. People like that stuff.”

“Hmm, maybe, but... in war? Really? It’d be creepy as hell.”

“Oh, true, I forgot about the setting for a minute there. Yes, you’re right, sorry. But I really think you should include a sidekick. Or a romantic interest, at least. It’d make Cap more layered. Not that he isn’t already, but it would be interesting to see him try to manage that kind of stuff while fighting for justice.”

“To be honest I did think of introducing a romantic interest,” Steve confesses. Bucky gives him a knowing smile.

“That Peggy girl, right?”

Maybe Steve shouldn’t be as surprised that someone is interested in his work, but he can’t help it. “Yup. What do you think of her?”

Bucky nods.

“I like her. She’s awesome. But. There’s something off about them.” When Steve looks at him with an arched brow, Bucky adds: “I mean, as a couple.”

Steve’s brow goes higher. How does he do it? How does Bucky see straight through him?

“That’s because we recently broke up,” he admits. Bucky’s face falls, oblivious to Steve’s shock.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No, that’s okay, we’re actually on good terms. She even gave me permission to use her character in the story if I want, as long as I don’t make her look bad.” He looks down and smiles, thinking of her. “Like that’s even possible.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Bucky’s lips when Steve looks up at him again.

“You seem fond of her.” Steve shrugs. “Excuse me if I’m prying, but why did you break up then?”

_ Because I’m really fucking gay,  _ is Steve’s first thought before he realizes he probably shouldn’t word it that way if he doesn’t want to scare the first cute guy in ages who’s actually interested in his nerdiness. But he’s not the type to lie or deny who he is, so he just words it in a softer, more acceptable way.

“Because I realized that girls aren’t really what I’m interested in.”

_ “Oh,” _ Bucky lets out, and it would be endearing if it wasn’t so annoying.

“Oh?” Steve asks, a little bit viciously. This Bucky guy — he seems like a really nice person, so Steve kind of hopes he doesn’t turn out to be a homophobe or something. Maybe Steve’s just reading a little too much into it, but it’s hard not to when you hear those kind of expressions everyday.

Bucky, however, doesn’t seem to mind. He just nods a little, more to himself than to Steve, like he’s absorbing the fact and treating it as data. And then he goes on like it’s nothing, his big eyes on Steve again.

“We should hang out later. I want to ask you so many things about your comic. And I want to know all your impressions about my writing. How about tonight? You free?”

Steve’s brain shuts down for a second.

“Didn’t you hear what I just say?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah? I’m just asking you to go grab a bite, maybe have a pleasant conversation, that’s all. Gay guys can have guy friends, don’t you think? Because I do. I think you really need one.”

Steve finds himself smiling despite himself. Screw it, he really likes this guy.

“Alright. Tonight, then.”

* * *

They exchange numbers. Night comes and Bucky appears at Steve’s dorm to go out together.

(He’s wearing the prosthetic now. Steve wouldn’t pay it so much mind if it wasn’t because it’s so variable, and for some reason he gets the feeling that it’s related to Bucky’s state of mind. But he’s in no place to ask just yet.)

They take the bus and talk about their teachers and subjects and whatnot during the twenty minutes the ride takes. Then Bucky guides Steve for like a block and a half until they stop.

It’s a 50’s themed diner.

“Here it is,” Bucky announces proudly. “You’re gonna like this place. C’mon.”

They enter the place. It’s very pretty and effectively, everything about it screams ‘retro’. The music, the decorations, the movie posters, the neon signs. Even the way waiters and waitresses are dressed. Steve breathes into the whole environment, absorbing its beauty.

“You like vintage stuff right?” Bucky nudges at his side. 

Steve scoffs happily. “You’re unbelievable.”

Bucky actually winks at him.

“Thanks!”

They get seated in a booth, one in front of the other. They look at the menu and talk about what kind of food they like. A pretty waitress takes their order and Steve feels his stomach turn when Bucky flirts with her. She giggles and blushes, obviously flattered.

This guy. He could charm a fucking rock.

The waitress leaves and then Bucky goes straight to the point.

“So, what did you think about the journal? Please. I want to know all your thoughts.”

Steve indulges him. He tells him everything he thought — even shows him some random sketches he made that afternoon, inspired on Bucky’s entries. Abstract isn’t really Steve’s thing but there was no other way to express the shaking feeling that Bucky’s writing left him with.

He tells him, “I don’t know you, but I know how you feel. I know you’re angry and sad against the world and even if I don’t know why, it resonates with me.”

Bucky’s face glows with delight, and yet Steve can see some kind of terror. It worries him, but only for the split second before it’s gone, and Bucky says, “Maybe one day I’ll tell you why. If we become good friends.”

“I really hope so,” Steve lies, because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep this. He’s too attracted to Bucky to stay just friends, but then again, this is better than nothing.

They share an awkward silence for a moment, both self-conscious of how exposed they have become to each other now. So in an attempt to break the tension, Bucky just kicks Steve playfully and laughs; and it’s worth the bruise when Steve kicks back because his awkward grimace turns into a mischievous smirk.

They battle for a little while until they’re both fully laughing. Eventually it settles into a pleasant silence, which Bucky ends up breaking.

“So, have you thought about the sidekick thing?”

Steve grins, arching a brow. “You’re still on that?”

Bucky shrugs.

“You could use me if you want.” He blurts out, then realizes what he just said and blushes deeply. “I mean, my looks. For the design. I don’t mind.”

Steve chuckles. Even Bucky has his slip-ups, and he thinks it’s damn endearing. So of course he needs to tease him, because he’s a bit of a brat.

“Why would I want to use your ugly mug?”

Bucky kicks Steve’s leg under the table again, but there’s no ill meaning behind it. He’s grinning fully, eyes crinkling.

It’s adorable.

“Shut up,” Bucky retorts. “Man, you look so sweet. If only people knew what a jerk you actually are.”

“Just a few people get that privilege, so you should be flattered.”

“I am. So, Cap,” Steve actually flinches when Bucky calls him that. Bucky shrugs and explains. “It’s obvious you’re projecting there, you gave him your name and everything. So. How did you came up with him?”

Steve tries not to feel self-conscious. He’s looked into Bucky’s soul anyway, he owes him as much. “Well, I’ve been drawing him since I was a kid. I’ve always been weak and sickly, and like I told you, I didn’t have many friends and I had to spend a lot of time at home; reading comics and watching cartoons. That’s how I got my love for drawing and for superhero stories, and so I made him the version of me I wanted to be.”

“Fair enough. And the setting?”

Steve shrugs.“I just like it. Like you said, I like vintage stuff. There’s not much more behind it, honestly.”

Bucky stares intently at him, as if he’s trying to see whether Steve is telling the truth. Steve holds his gaze. Whatever Bucky finds there seems to satisfy him, for he just nods and shoots another question.

“I see,” he pauses, seems to mull something over; like he’s deciding whether it’s appropriate to ask or not. “What about the whole America thing?”

“You’ve been meaning to ask that question for a long time, haven’t you?” Steve says amusingly.

(Bucky is the kind of guy who smiles easily. It’s going to be the death of Steve.)

“Oh Christ, it’s been killing me,” Bucky admits excitedly. “But I didn’t know how to ask that in class, or if it would lead us into a political debate of the heated and furious kind. You really don’t strike me as the patriotic type.”

“I was born on the 4th of July, though.”

“Really?! Jeez, that’s...”

“Ridiculous?”

Bucky chuckles. He’s thought it, the bastard.

“A little bit, yeah,” he chuckles a bit more. “Oh my God.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too.

“I know. I grew up watching all those fireworks and shit.” Then something dark crosses his face, and he goes on in a much more somber tone, “My mom used to say they were for me, to celebrate that I was alive,” he pauses, trying to get a hold of the knot in his throat. He frowns. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling now.”

Bucky is looking at him with concern.

“It’s fine,” he replies softly, placing his right hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You want to ramble more about it? Night is young.”

Steve shakes his head.“Not really.”

Bucky nods.

“Right. So, America.”

The smile appears on Steve’s face again, even if it’s half-hearted and it doesn’t reach his eyes. But it’s something.

“It’s really more boring than you think. Like I told you, my birthday was somehow always kind of patriotic so 10-year-old me though it would be a cool idea. Then the design grew on me as I kept drawing him, even when I realized it had been kind of stupid.”

“Awww. Man, that’s not stupid, that’s cute as fuck.”

“Thanks,” Steve replies, flustered. “And the war setting was because once I had to catch up with my history classes so I designed an alternate universe set in World War II because it helped me learn faster. I thought it was cool, and that I needed a villain, and well... Nazis are already villains, so it was easy. And it stuck.”

“That’s amazing.”

Bucky is being sincere, Steve can tell by the way his eyes are shiny and wide and have not left his face since he started talking. But a sudden surge of self-consciousness strikes him and he can’t help but feeling like he’s been blabbering about stupid stuff and Bucky has not stopped him because he’s too kind.

He shrinks in his seat.

“Jeez, I feel so stupid right now,” he admits. 

Bucky frowns. “Why?”

“I’m rambling about... fictional characters, with a really cute guy. This is so embarrassing. You must think I’m such a nerd.”

Bucky actually smiles and shrugs nonchalantly. “Well yeah, you are. But you’re a cool nerd.”

Steve groans, facepalming. “Please don’t say that.”

“Hey, Steve, look at me. I’m being serious — I mean it. This thing that you’ve created is amazing. It has so much potential. And it’s not just fiction. It says so much about you. Fiction is just a channel to communicate what we can’t say outright, but this comic, it was like stepping into your mind. And it’s so cool, you have so much to say. You’re not just good at technique, Rogers. Your drawings have a voice. And that’s a rare thing to have. So don’t feel embarrassed.”

Steve cannot explain the warmth that grows in his chest. He sometimes forget what being appreciated feels like. And it makes him dizzy with joy and he feels like burying his face into a pillow, screaming with happiness, but he just settles for a sincere smile and a simple,

“Thanks, Buck.”

_ You’re the first person in so long that has listened to me. _

Bucky smiles back, then pats his shoulder.

“You’re welcome, buddy. Now finish that shake. You’re too thin.”

“Yes, mom.” Steve rolls his eyes and Bucky lets out a chuckle.

* * *

Steve doesn’t want to call it a ‘date’ because he’s pretty sure that Bucky is straight, but it feels like one. Now that Bucky knows about Steve’s weakly condition he insists on letting him wear his jacket when they leave the diner late at night. They take the bus and even when they reach campus Bucky insists on walking Steve to his dorm. Steve’s palms are sweaty in Bucky’s jacket pockets and his heart is beating wildly, because  _ what if Bucky is actually interested in him? _

“I had a great time tonight. We should hang out some other time,” Bucky says as they reach Steve’s dorm.

Steve cannot think properly, his brain busy over-analyzing everything that has been said and done that evening, double-checking for clear signs that this is more than a friendly meeting.

“Yeah.”

“For the sake of our projects only, of course,” Bucky teases. “And getting feedback.”

“Of course,” Steve replies automatically, and it’s then when Bucky actually stops walking so Steve stops too.

“Hey, pal, everything alright?” he asks with concern. “You know I’m joking, right? I really liked hanging out with y—“

“Bucky,” Steve interrupts, determined. Bucky’s eyebrows crease.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Bucky’s eyes go crazy wide, a heavy blush in his cheeks that’s even noticeable in the darkness. His mouth is slightly agape and he seems to struggle with words for a minute that feels too long and Steve is hopeful; until Bucky’s eyes harden and his jaw sets.

“No.”

Before Steve can apologize, Bucky is already walking away.


	3. Chapter 3

**stevie**

_ Hey Buck. _

_ I’m sorry if I overstepped the line tonight. _

**stevie**

_ I know I blew it. And I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose you as a friend. _

_ Can we still be friends? _

_ I promise I’ll behave. _

**stevie**

_ Please answer me. Even if it’s just a ‘no’. _

* * *

When Steve doesn’t feel like drawing, it usually means he’s either coming down with something, already too sick, or too depressed to get anything done.

That night, it’s depression.

The thing is, he knows he shouldn’t care about Bucky Barnes so much. He’s just another dumb crush that turned him down, something he was already too familiar with. Except it’s really not like that — it’s the fact that Bucky offered him a friendship, something most people didn’t care about.

He can’t fall asleep until he eventually does, beaten by weariness and drifting off still wearing Bucky’s jacket, cell phone in hand. It wakes him up when it rings in the middle of the night, and for a minute he thinks he might be dreaming when he looks at the name on the screen.

It’s Bucky.

Steve, hazy with sleep, picks up.

“Bucky?”

“Stevie!” Bucky immediately shouts in Steve’s good ear. _ Jesus Christ _. “Gosh, I really thought you wouldn’t answer.”

“Bucky, it’s like 3am.”

“Ohhhhh… Oh, shit.”

Steve, waking up fully, realizes by Bucky’s slurred speech that something’s not quite right.

“Are you okay?”

“‘m fuckin’ drunk,” Bucky shouts and seriously, at this rate Steve’s going to lose his hearing from both ears. “‘nd I read your texts but I can’t type shit right now.”

“Okay, um, where are you? Are you safe?”

Bucky laughs. Like, actually laughs. The bastard.

“You’re such a sweetheart, did y’know that? Yup, ’m safe. I was with sum friends and they were taking care of me so I wouldn’t do dumb shit like call you or go to your room but I ‘scaped ‘em,” he giggles. “No need to worry tho.”

Steve sits in the bed.

“Right. Where are you? Can you send me your location, Bucky?”

Steve can almost hear the smirk in Bucky’s amused tone. “Are you coming to get me?”

”I might as well, yeah.”

“Then y’should open the door, punk.”

Steve turns on the light and does that. There’s a yelp of pain when Bucky falls to the floor, the idiot was leaning against the door. He’s laughing as Steve helps him up and shush him.

“Shhh, you need to be more quiet, people are sleeping.”

“Riiiight. Hey, I know that jacket!”

“Come on.” Steve ignores him, guides him to the bed and thinks of how ridiculous they must look, Bucky being much taller and stronger. Bucky sways but doesn’t put much of a fight as Steve puts him in the bed. He then drags his desk’s chair and sits next to Bucky, who’s hiding his red face behind his hands.

“Do you feel like throwing up?”

“Not really. Not right now at least.”

“Right. If you feel like it, please tell me, okay?”

“Yes, mom,” Bucky drawls. “Jesus. Why are you so sweet?”

Steve ignores the compliment. It must be the alcohol talking.

“It’s okay, Buck. Just sleep it off.”

Bucky takes his hands off his face and looks at Steve, suddenly very serious — he looks upset, eyes wide and unfocused.

“No, I came here to talk. I saw your texts.”

_ Well, fuck me. _

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. We can talk when you’re sober.”

“No, when I’m sober I won’t be able to tell you what I want to tell you right now.”

Steve squeezes his nose bridge in exasperation and dread.

“Fine,” he finally says. “Say it, then.”

“You’re not gonna judge me?”

“No, Bucky, I won’t.”

“You’re not gonna think I’m just kidding?”

“That’s up to you. Are you kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Then I believe you,” Steve reassures him. Bucky keeps his glassy-eyed gaze fixed on him for a moment, then looks away. He looks… vulnerable. And it’s not fair. Steve feels like dying. With the moment stretching longer every second, he’s both dreading what will come next, and at the same time waiting for it to be over.

“Bucky?” Steve presses when he can’t take it anymore. Bucky groans and covers his face with his hands again.

“What does a guy have to do here to get a chance to appear in the cute art major’s superhero comic? Because I’m trying really hard here.”

“Seriously?!” Steve asks incredulously. “You want to be in the comic that bad?”

“Of course, Stevie.” Steve decides to ignore the stupid nickname because Bucky is seriously wasted, but that doesn’t stop the blush from rising to his face. “You’re crazy talented, why wouldn’t I? And Cap needs a sidekick, I’ve told you like... a hundred times.”

“Okay, Bucky. How drunk are you right now? Should I be concerned?”

“Drunk enough to be honest, not drunk enough to forget it in the morning, which is gon’make seeing you tomorrow embarrassing as fuck, but ‘s worth the shot. And yeah, y’should probs be concerned, but not ‘cause of this, but because I’m so fucked up you can’t even imagine.”

“What?” Steve blurts.

“Tonight. When you asked me if you could kiss me. It’s not that I-” Bucky starts, opening his mouth and closing a few times, before his head lolls back onto Steve’s pillow, opting instead to gesture floppily at his prosthetic. “But this,” he stretches the prosthetic arm, “still gives me crap everyday.”

Steve blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Bucky’s irony-tinged laugh sounds like it hurts. “Oh.”

Steve doesn’t know what to add. _ Well, _ he thinks bitterly, _ that certainly changes things_.

“One day I might tell you how I lost it,” Bucky goes on. “Maybe it’ll help you with your comic. With the backstory for my character or sum… sumthin’ like that.”

Steve can’t believe this guy and his bluntness, the way he feels entitled to everything because he’s charming and he knows it. And somehow, Steve can’t stop smiling anyway.

“You’re full of it.”

“You’ve no idea,” Bucky chuckles, happy to have made Steve smile. “So, will you include me?”

_ This is so fucking endearing. _

“Well, yeah, but only if you remember this tomorrow.”

Bucky barks a laugh. “You’re such an asshole. You want to see me die of embarrassment, don’t ya?”

“A little,” Steve replies. It’s hard to be mad at him, but it’s a bit of a payback for the lousy time he just made him go through. “But it’ll be worth it, I’ll make you one of the main characters.”

“Then I’ll try my best.”

“Okay, Buck. Now sleep.”

Bucky closes his eyes, and drifts off.

Steve watches him fall asleep so easily like that, studies his face in the dim lighting. The perfect, broad nose; the split chin, the square jaw. He’s absolutely gorgeous, could maybe even be a model if he wanted to. And Bucky knows it. He knows he’s good looking and uses it as an excuse to cover up the fact that he’s just a big nerd who wants to appear in a comic. 

Steve had fallen for it.

Steve has to admit it though, that Bucky’s too beautiful not to take inspiration from him. So Steve keeps his promise and takes a pencil and a notebook, lights a lamp and sketches Bucky from different angles until he’s too tired and his eyes sting too much to keep going.

* * *

Steve is sore when he wakes up from sleeping in the chair. His body is really not made for sleeping like that.

It takes him a while to put himself together, stop thinking about the dull ache he’ll have to deal with for the rest of the day.

And then he notices Bucky isn’t there.

Steve checks his phone. There’s a badly written text from him.

**Bucky**

_ hey stvbe im osrry for not being there but i kinda had an emergnecy. im ok tho. see u later in class, i owe u _

_ ps. thank u _

Steve can’t help feeling a pang of worry at the cryptic text, but after Bucky’s sincerity the past night, he decides to respect his privacy but replies so that he knows Steve’s there for him if he needs it.

**Me**

_ It’s okay, Buck. Call me if you need anything. _

Bucky doesn’t reply. Steve pays not much mind to it but he does start to freak out when Bucky doesn’t arrive as early as he usually does. Steve tells himself he’s being unreasonable and tries to get himself together.

Bucky gets there late for his standards, but still five minutes early for class. The moment he sees Steve, he groans theatrically to call his attention.

It works. Steve lifts his eyes from his sketchbook and chuckles playfully.

(Some people are staring. Steve doesn’t care, and Bucky doesn’t seem to either.)

Bucky makes his way to Steve. His prosthetic hand trembles a little bit when he pulls out the chair, and it calls Steve’s attention because he might not know much about Bucky’s prosthetic but he’s sure it’s a really good one because it can be gentle and precise when needed. Which means, whatever happened to Bucky, he’s still a bit shaken.

(Maybe it’s the hangover? He’s a bit pale today, and there are bags under his eyes.)

“So,” Bucky’s voice interrupts Steve’s flow of thoughts; “I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you without bursting into flames.”

And yet he’s doing it. He’s looking at Steve in the eye, a nervous smile on his face. And he’s trying to joke and act naturally. Steve’s touched, for no one had ever bothered to do that for him.

He smiles sweetly.

“Do you remember everything?”

“Most of it, yeah. The important parts, anyway.” Bucky is considerate enough to save them the mutual embarrassment by quickly adding, “So? Are you gonna include me in the story now that I’ve made a fool of myself?”

Steve is amazed by how often he hears his own laughter when he’s talking to Bucky.

“Yeah, actually, look at this.” Steve hands Bucky the sketchbook.

“Those are studies,” Steve explains nervously as Bucky goes through the pages of him sleeping, seen from different angles. His jaw drops.

“These are gorgeous, Steve. Wow.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve can’t deal with this so early in the morning, so he flips the pages and gets to the good stuff. The soldier sketches. “Here it is, Bucky Barnes. Cap’s official sidekick.”

In the page there is a full body drawing of a guy with Bucky’s face, smiling proudly. He’s wearing a military uniform. At the corner of it reads:

_ Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes _

_ 107th Infantry Regiment _

“This is unbelievable,” Bucky lets out a little yelp of excitement. “Wow. I can’t believe this, Steve, it’s just... wow.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Bucky replies meaningfully. “You don’t have any idea how much this means to me.”

There are only a handful of things in the world that could leave Steve speechless — seeing the impact his art had in another person was definitely one of them.

“You’re welcome,” he says stupidly. He feels so self-conscious, but Bucky is too absorbed in the drawing that he pays no mind. After a few moments of admiring Steve’s artwork, he speaks again.

“I just have one request, though. Of course, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to but...”

“But?”

“Could you... um...” Bucky grimaces. “You think that maybe you could draw him without the arm?”

“Oh,” Steve mouths. “Of course.”

He takes the sketchbook back and quickly erases the arm and draws the sleeve hanging loosely, then shows it to Bucky.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive—“

“No, actually,” Bucky purses his lips. “I think I prefer him with the arm back on. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Steve draws the gloved arm again, tries to tell himself not to press Bucky with that subject.

“Yeah, much better,” Bucky mutters when Steve finishes correcting the drawing; but his smile is gone and his eyes have turned dark.

Steve doesn’t ask.

* * *

The class ends on a much brighter note, though. Mr. Erskine gives a lecture that covers the whole hour and when he dismisses everyone; Bucky turns and looks at Steve right in the eye, dead serious.

“I might’ve spent the whole class thinking about Bucky Barnes.”

“Oh, ego much?” Steve jokes.

“Uh, have you seen me? But seriously, hear me out okay?” Bucky goes on and watching his enthusiasm sparks something in Steve’s heart.

“Bucky is the oldest son of his family. He’s a military brat. And he’s the one who keeps Steve out of trouble.“

“Hey!” Steve complains, but he’s smiling. Bucky shrugs.

“Well I mean yeah, the guy’s very tiny at the beginning —no offense— and yet he goes around picking fights with everything that moves. Bucky admires his bravery and how he takes no shit, but sometimes he goes too far. Steve can’t fight everyone on his own.”

“I guess you’re right,” Steve muses, thinking about his own past and how he was always beaten.

“Yeah. So anyway, Bucky’s obviously a charmer. But he’s a good guy. He’s usually getting dates for both himself and Steve. And despite Steve being a brat sometimes, Bucky only tells the girls the good stuff.”

“How generous,” Steve replies sarcastically.

“Yup. He loves taking the girls dancing, too. And he’s really good at it.”

“Are you projecting?”

Bucky shrugs. “A little, I guess? Have never tried dancing much, to be honest, but I feel that if I lived in the 40’s it’d be something I’d do often. I don’t know why.”

“Yeah, I guess it sounds... fitting.” Steve can’t explain why either, but it does. He can easily picture Bucky dancing the night away with girls, leaving with them in the morning. The thought of it somehow leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“...I even thought about what actor would fit the role,” Bucky continues a bit bashfully, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. It makes him happy, though. He’s fantasized about a movie with his characters many times before so it feels nice that someone is as excited as he is.

“Really? Who?”

“I would like it to be someone like that guy from _Game of Thrones_. Richard Madden, I think is his name. I mean — not him exactly, since he’d be too old, but someone like him.”

Steve’s eyes go wide. “Oh, I know him! Yes, yes, he’d totally fit! Maybe Sebastian Stan, too? That type of guy.”

“Who the hell is Sebastian Stan?”

Steve’s eyes go wider because how could he not know. I mean — yeah, being realistic and all, Sebastian’s not that known, but he’s one of Steve’s biggest celebrity crushes, so he’ll take any chance he gets to introduce him to other people. He’s already googling pictures of him and showing them to Bucky.

“This guy.”

“I don’t know him, but ew,” Bucky makes a face. “He looks like a twink.”

“He’s not a twink!” Steve laughs. “Okay, maybe I should search from a more recent picture. That one was from when he appeared in _Gossip Girl_. He was such a baby, but now he is...” Steve stops himself before he sighs dreamily, and immediately blushes when he sees that Bucky definitely knew that he was about to.

Bucky cackles. “Steve, what the fuck.”

“Sorry,” Steve regains his composure, but deep down he’s glad that Bucky reacted so naturally. He shows him another picture. “There. This is from when he was in _Political Animals_. He’s really good, and right now he’s gotten kinda beefy, so he could easily play the soldier role. And he’s letting his hair grow longer, it looks real great. May even suit Bucky. Comic Bucky, I mean.”

“In the military? I think not. I mean, I’m flattered you want to make him look more like I am, but let’s be real, that and the arm thing just wouldn’t fit the story as it is.”

“Hm. I guess you’re right. So short-haired Sebastian Stan then.”

Bucky chuckles. “Don’t sound so disappointed. What’s with the long hair, anyway?”

Steve shrugs. “I like it. It’s really... drawable. And it looks better on him.”

“Hm,” Bucky analyzes one of the newer pictures Steve has shown him, then nods. “Okay, maybe he has potential. But I’d have to see him act.”

Steve gives a curt nod. “You’ve got something else to do? Class?”

“Not today.”

“Okay, we’re binge-watching his miniseries then,” Steve commands smoothly. Bucky’s eyes widen at his confidence but then he smiles warmly.

“All right.”

* * *

They go to Steve’s room and he makes Bucky choose between _‘Political Animals’_ and _‘Kings’_. They end up going with the first one because it’s shorter.

They finish the series that same evening and Bucky admits that ‘this Sebastian guy’ is really good.

“You’re right, I think he’d make a good Bucky. But he’s gonna be too old for the part when we become famous.”

“Who cares, he’ll still be attractive.”

“What if he’s bald by then.”

Steve nearly chokes. “Shut up.”

“I don’t want a middle-aged bald guy playing me.”

“We can always put a wig on him. He’s too gorgeous to let that face go to waste.”

“So you think Bucky Barnes is gorgeous.”

“Shut up, dumbass. If we want to hit it big in the entertainment industry he has to be, even if the real thing isn’t. Y’know, like advertising.”

“I’m gonna pretend that didn’t hurt because I know you’re like, totally lying right now. That guy and I could be twins, I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, right. I thought you said you didn’t like him.”

“I said he’s gonna be old when we hit it big, that’s all. And Bucky should always look young and pretty.”

Steve actually rolls his eyes.

“You give yourself too much credit.”

“You’re just jealous I look like a movie star. Have you ever thought about who could play Cap?”

Steve blushes so bright that Bucky instantly cackles. “Oh my God, you have!”

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “I’m not telling.”

“Oh c’mon, you saw me make a fool of myself yesterday. It’s your turn.”

“Nope.”

“Is it really that bad? Christ, Steve, please don’t tell me it’s someone like Will Smith or something like that, ‘cause I gotta tell you, that would make me worry about the accuracy of your self-perception. Not to mention it’d be kind of offensive.”

“Of course not,” Steve snaps. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna tell you ‘cause I’ve come to realize you’re the kind of guy who never drops a subject until he gets what he wants, and I don’t want you drunk at 3am asking that question at my door.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope. It’s too good.”

“Fine. I can live with that. Now tell me.”

Steve sighs. “I’ve thought of... Chris Evans,” he says, barely even a whisper.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

“Chris Evans,” Steve repeats, only a bit louder.

“Who?” Before Steve repeats the name again, Bucky shakes his head. “No, I heard you. I just don’t know who he is.”

Steve sighs, again. He googles it because if he doesn’t then Bucky will do it anyway. Then he shows him the results.

“It’s this guy. He’s been in superhero movies before, too. He played the Human Torch in that early 2000’s _ Fantastic Four _ movie.”

Bucky laughs.

“And you said I gave myself too much credit.”

“Oh c’mon. It’s different, Bucky. Cap is not a mirror of who I am. He’s who I want to _ become _. And I would like to be like this guy. I would love it if my body looked like that.”

Bucky assesses him before replying. “Well, I’m not gonna tell you your body is perfect as it is and all that crap, because even if people means well, it doesn’t mean shit to people like you and me. But. If it means anything, I think you’re pretty cool as you are. Not perfect. And yeah, having poor health must suck big time. But you’re a really cool person, Steve. And that has nothing to do with your body. And if people can’t see that, then to hell with them.”

Steve smiles fondly. It means so much to hear it from someone who understands.

“Thanks, Buck. You’re pretty cool too.”

“I know, but thank you for acknowledging it.”

Steve laughs. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! Look who’s talking,” Bucky takes Steve into his arms and ruffles his hair. Then they wrestle like the idiots they are.

* * *

They talk. It’s mostly bickering, brainstorming, dumb jokes and teasing. Somehow they end up talking about Sebastian again. Bucky says he’s still not convinced, so Steve opens his not-that-large-Bucky-stop-laughing collection of Sebastian pictures. Bucky either mulls about the different looks or grins when Steve’s dumb crush for the guy becomes too obvious.

After seeing so many different styles, he has a stand.

“You know, this may sound contradictory but I think I prefer him with short hair.”

“You did not just say that,” Steve gasps in horror, and Bucky starts laughing. They both laugh, and laugh, even though it’s really not that funny, and in that moment Steve thinks _ ‘Oh Christ, this is what falling in love feels like’. _


	4. Chapter 4

They become closer after that evening. Somehow they’re always together, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Steve is amazed at how easily they can switch from stupid jokes and banter into deeper subjects. It’s like he can tell anything to Bucky, and even the things he doesn’t tell, Bucky somehow gets them. They’re in sync like that, and it’s the first time that Steve has felt something like that.

They talk about the comic a lot, too. One day Steve tells Bucky; “We have to visit a friend.”

“Who?”

“My colorist.”

It’s then that Bucky learns that Steve is colorblind.

* * *

Steve’s friend is Sharon Carter, a cousin of Steve’s ex. She studies Graphic Design on the other side of the city and in her free time (and because she‘s very fond of Steve, as she keeps saying), she helps him get the right color schemes for Steve’s characters. It follows that she has to see Bucky in person to get right the color of his eyes, skin and hair, and which colors will fit him for his clothing too.

They agree with her to visit her on the weekend. However, when Saturday morning comes, Steve’s barely awake and can feel the heat in his cheeks. When Bucky does find him, Steve watches as his smile drops.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says in a thick voice. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Oh. You want me to call Sharon, tell her we’ll go another day?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Steve coughs. “She’s really busy. I’m not feeling that bad, anyway... yet.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky knows no arguing we’ll convince Steve, and Steve can see the war in his mind as he goes through arguments. “Okay,” he says finally, conceding. Steve is proud of Bucky’s-mind-Steve. “Just... let’s do it quick.”

“You worry too much.”

“Of course, idiot.”

They take the train to get there. The motion makes Steve drowsy and he lets himself nod off. His head falls on Bucky’s shoulder. Once he wakes up, he notices that Bucky had slumped down in his seat, to make Steve more comfortable. 

Steve tries not to read into that. 

Sharon lives in a flat with some roommates. She hugs Steve the minute she sees him and then realizes the state he’s in and berates him for coming like that. Bucky agrees it was reckless, tells her he tried to convince him to stay resting but couldn’t and  _ bang _ , instant friendship. Steve rolls his eyes at them.

They all chat a little bit, Steve and Sharon catch up. He asks about Peggy and she tells him she’s doing fine, her studies are going great, plus she’s started to date this guy named Daniel Souza. Steve is genuinely happy for her.

After that, they get to work. Steve makes more sketches while Bucky just exists there, and Steve tries not to laugh at how stiff he is, the panic in his eyes translating as _‘oh shit, I’m a model’_. Sharon colors the sketches.

Steve’s eyes droop shut after a few sketches, and he’s willing to admit, if only in his head, that Bucky and Sharon may be right. He leans back against the sofa, closes his eyes, and lets his breathing deepen.

He hears Sharon finishes coloring and he knows she’s also marking the colors to make his life easier when she’s not there. She’s an angel like that.

After a moment, though, Steve hears her start talking about him.

“His work is really wonderful, isn’t it?” She says as she flips through the pages of the sketchbook.

“Yeah. I always tell him he’s crazy good. When I saw his work for the first time I couldn’t believe my eyes, I’m telling you,” Bucky says.

“Yes, I totally get what you’re saying. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to help him. He has the potential to hit it big. I’m glad someone else finally noticed it.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to notice him,” Bucky whispers, and Steve’s insides churn with nervousness and hope.

“Hmm,” Sharon agrees. She adds no further comment.

* * *

** _unfair_ **

_ (entry #325) _

_ i would like to give you my eyes _

_ to see which wonders you’d do with them _

_ but then again _

_ i like to see you in full color _

_ J. B. B. _

* * *

The rest of the weekend goes by in a blur. Steve does get a fever and he sleeps and sleeps and sleeps; and he doesn’t know if it’s real or a dream but every time he opens his eyes Bucky’s there, Bucky’s voice is in his dream reading him something, and are those Bucky’s fingers threading in his hair? No, he must’ve had imagined that, surely Bucky’s cool touch was just to check his temperature.

Bucky feeds him, helps him to take his meds. Sometimes there’s the soft buzz of the TV when he got bored and played something on Netflix, and some rare times when Steve opens his eyes he got to hear Bucky snoring softly, and it made him feel good.

Cared for.

* * *

“He likes you,” Sharon tells Steve over the phone after a few days. They do this often, talk about guys and comic books.

“Oh come on. He’s just nice. He’s like that with everyone. And he’s probably straight anyway.”

“Have you seen the way he  _ stands? _ And don’t get me started on the man bun. There’s  _ no way _ he’s straight, at least he’s got to be bi or something. And anyway — he’s crazy about you, believe me. You should’ve seen the way he talks about you, about what you do. It’s like you’re the sun, Steve. His face literally changes when he looks at you.”

“Stop it!” Steve chuckles, trying to sound nonchalant. Deep down, he hates himself for being more than a little hopeful.

* * *

Steve’s not naïve enough to believe that a guy like Bucky Barnes, who already has half the world eating from the palm of his hand, is romantically interested in him until he has like, super overwhelming proof of it. Which he hasn’t, yet. So despite already being half in love with him, that doesn’t stop him from going on this date he had set already.

The guy’s name is Sam Wilson. They met through Grindr, and they have been on a few dates already, but it’s going slow because Steve had recently broken up with Peggy and was discovering his sexuality, and Sam was just starting dating again after grieving his ex-boyfriend, Riley, who had died in an accident two years ago when they took a sabbatical to do volunteer work. Sam hadn’t gone much into detail about it and Steve hadn’t pressed him.

Aside from being unbelievably hot and muscular, Sam was very much like Steve. Maybe too much, and Steve had guessed from the first date that it wasn’t going to work out exactly because of it; and he could tell Sam knew it too. But they genuinely liked each other and they were both good guys who tried hard for good things, so they hadn’t given up on it just yet.

Steve had suggested going to the 50’s diner Bucky had taken him once. They had laughed, eaten well and shared a milkshake. They had also discussed politics and deep subjects. Steve loves hearing Sam’s insight. He loves how he didn’t have to defend his passionate opinions with Sam, because Sam felt the same way.

As they were about to leave, Sam put his jacket on Steve’s shoulders so he wouldn’t get sick with the change of temperature.  _ Such a gentleman,  _ Steve thinks when Sam opens the door for him, only to have Bucky Barnes almost crash into him. And he’s not alone — he’s with a redhead, his arm around her (the prosthetic one, and Steve feels a pang of jealousy because he’s never seen Bucky be so comfortable about it with someone else). She’s got her arm around his waist and she’s gorgeous, clear big eyes and white skin that contrasts beautifully with her fiery hair, braided sideways and blonde at the tips.

“Whoa,” Bucky exclaims. “Hey, Steve.”

“Bucky,” Steve says breathlessly. Behind him, Sam clears his throat and Steve feels like a jerk.

_ Am I really  _ this _ obvious? _

“Oh, of course. Bucky, this is Sam. Sam, Bucky,” Steve says hurriedly.

Sam steps forward, smiling politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, pal,” Bucky says. He gestures at the woman with him. “This is—“

“Natasha. But you can call me Nat.” She smirks at Steve, and Bucky... blushes? Steve raises an eyebrow. “Bucky has told me so much about you. And about your comic, too.”

“Oh. Has he shown you any stuff?” Steve questions, eyes flicking back to Bucky.

“Just the sketch of the soldier. The full body one. But you should’ve seen him, he wouldn’t shut up about all those studies you made of him t—“

“Natasha!” Bucky calls out, and  _ yes, _ he’s definitely blushing now.

Natasha shrugs and smirks again. She seems so collected and confident and Steve hates her for that, because he’s burning with jealousy, but he can’t bring himself to dislike her.

“Well,” Sam presses and Steve feels like shit.

“Well,” he mirrors. “We were just leaving, so if you’ll excuse us...”

“Of course,” Bucky nods, finding his voice again. “Steve, I’ll text you?”

“Sure,” Steve replies a little harshly, then takes Sam hand into his. “It was nice to meet you,” he tells Natasha.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Natasha is still smirking. Steve feels a shiver travel his spine — it’s like she could see right through him, like she could guess his deepest secrets.

They leave. When they are far away enough, Sam drops the scariest word he could ever drop, and lets it hang.

“So.”

Steve feels the dread building in his stomach, wants to throw up — this is so unfair to Sam.

“So.”

“Was he your ex or something? I thought you told me you were just beginning to date boys.”

“I am. And he’s not my ex, he’s just a classmate.”

“A classmate you’ve made studies of and included in your comic.”

Okay, so, the thing about dating someone who is so much like you? Not recommended. You can’t fool yourself and you won’t be able to fool them either.

“Fiiiiine,” Steve relents. “I have a tiny bit of a crush on him. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh. You aren’t totally in love with him or anything. Just a stupid crush.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Sam rolls his eyes. He gives Steve’s hand a light squeeze. “Oh honey, you’re so stubborn.”

Steve blushes. “And you’re like, really hot. But this is unfair to you.”

Sam chuckles. “Thank you. Don’t worry about it, though. This wasn’t gonna work out anyway.”

Steve sighs. “I know. But I wish it wasn’t like that.”

“Hey, it’s fine. We can stay friends.”

Steve gives him a little smile. “Friends who hold hands?”

Sam smiles right back at him, giving Steve’s hand a kiss. “Yup. Friends who hold hands.”

And it all goes downhill from there.

A group of older guys pass them by. They look like assholes, and quickly prove they are when one of them clicks their tongue at the sight of them and drops both racial and homophobic slurs at them.

Steve doesn’t even register letting go of Sam’s hands and kicking the guy right in the balls. It’s an automatic response.

Sam’s a strong man. He’s tall and built up so when the guys retaliate and punch Steve, he’s ready to push him out of their way and fight them back. But five against two (or more like one and a half, Steve thinks bitterly) proves to be too much even from him; so after beating two of them, Sam suddenly falls to the ground when one of the guys hits his head from behind.

“Sam!” Steve yells, feeling his chest beginning to contract in panic. Oh fuck, this isn’t good. 

Three of the men are approaching him now as he sits on the ground with a bleeding nose and searching desperately for his inhaler in his pocket. He takes it out, panting like a fish out of water, and just as he’s about to press it to his mouth, one of the men kicks his hand and sends the little plastic thing flying away from him.

“Hey guys,” a female voice purrs, calling their attention. Steve looks in that direction and it’s Nat, standing there with her hands on her hips. Behind her there’s Bucky, holding Steve’s inhaler in his flesh hand. “What are you doing? Girls don’t like troublemakers.”

“Lady, stay out of this,” one of them says. It all happens so fast that Steve barely has time to register it.

Nat’s face hardens, turns cold and expressionless. It’s such a noticeable change from the jovial girl that teased him moments ago that Steve almost feels like a different person just took her body.

She approaches the guy and looks up at him, her tiny body looking funny in comparison to the beefy, tall dude. He gives a creepy smirk and stretches out her hand to cup her cheek, but then she holds it, twists it back and takes him down in a second with one kick and a few quick punches.

_ What the...? _

“Hey!” One of the two remaining guys shouts at them, running towards Nat. She stands there confidently and Steve is ready to see her fight the dude in a similar motion, but this time is Bucky who interferes with graceful but deadly movements, just like Nat.

As Bucky fights the guy, the last one turns back to glare at Steve. Steve is still trying to catch his breath and control the attack before it blows, but the sudden rush of panic he gets when the man starts walking towards him doesn’t help.

“Steve!” Bucky yells, having just finished with the guy. He takes the lid of a nearby trashcan and slides it across the ground so it reaches Steve.

Steve takes it just in time and covers himself just as the man is about to punch him. Steve’s whole frame trembles when the sound of hitting metal and the breaking of bones hits his good ear. The man howls in pain. As he wriggles in the ground Steve stands up shakily —his legs feel like jello— and hits the man in the back of his head with the improvised shield to knock him down.

The man falls unconscious to the ground.

Steve lets out a nervous laughter, dropping the trash can lid to the ground with shaky hands from exhilaration. His vision becomes blurry and his whole body sways as his knees give up.

“Steve!” He hears Bucky’s hoarse voice. It sounds so, so far away.

Before he hits the ground he feels steady hands catch him. He’s not sure when when he closed his eyes but when he opens them again he’s sitting on the ground and Sam’s sturdy hands are on his shoulders. He has a black eye and his lips are split, but otherwise he looks okay.

He’s talking, but Steve can’t manage to focus. He’s trying to hold his breathing in check.

Bucky and Nat are behind them  _ (when did they get there?) _ . Bucky’s face is twisted in worry as he gives Sam Steve’s inhaler. Sam presses it against Steve’s mouth and Steve closes his eyes desperately as the medicine fills his throat.

He can breathe again.

“You okay, buddy?” Sam asks when it seems like Steve has gotten his breathing in check. Steve nods. He is okay, but now that the adrenaline rush is over, he feels drained.

Sam helps him up.

“Thank you guys,” Steve whispers hoarsely and shyly. He can barely bring himself to look at Bucky’s face, for it breaks his heart to see him so... worried? And it’s weird, because Bucky opens his mouth as if to say something but no words come out, so it’s Nat who replies instead.

“No problem,” she says. “It’s a good thing we were nearby. We were just about to order when this lady came into the restaurant yelling there was a fight a couple of blocks away. You should’ve seen Bucky, he was all like _ ‘omfg Nat what if it’s Steve!?.’ _ ”

Sam has to laugh. “Really?” He looks down at Steve. “Man, does he know you.”

“Are you okay?” Nat asks Steve. “You look really pale. And you,” she talks to Sam. “We should fix your face up.”

“It’s fine, I’m more worried about Steve here.”

“I’m fine, ‘m just exhausted,” Steve admits.

“I’ll walk you to your dorm,” Bucky speaks for the first time since the fight. He puts an arm around him and Steve can’t help but to lean into the touch, too exhausted to think properly. It feels nice and it’s so much like Bucky. Steve doesn’t know if he notices when he does it, but he loves how Bucky always finds subtle ways to touch the people he cares about. It’s warm and he guesses it’s one of the many reasons many people like him so much.

_ (And he smells so good...) _

Steve lets Bucky lead the way, closes his eyes as he guides them to the bus stop. Bucky starts whistling an old melody as they walk, then turns into singing softly.

_ Kiss me once, then kiss me twice _

_ Then kiss me once again _

_ It's been a long, long time... _

He has a nice voice. A really nice one.

* * *

“Look at them. They’re disgusting,” Nat jokes as they walk behind. Sam laughs.

“How much time do you think it will take them to notice they’re both into each other?”

Nat whistles. “I’m not sure. Bucky is usually smooth about this sort of thing but I don’t think I’d ever seen him this smitten with somebody since the accident.”

Sam decides not to ask.

“Anyway, we have to get you cleaned up,” she says. “And maybe it’s better to leave them alone.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees.

“I live nearby. We can go there and tend your wounds.”

Sam arches his eyebrows. “Is this a date?”

“Not with you looking like that. Maybe when that black eye’s gone I’ll reconsider.”

Sam chuckles. “Okay. Something to aspire to.” He links his elbow through Nat’s, and lets her lead him.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve leans against Bucky’s shoulder all the ride home. He dozes off a little.

“Hey, buddy. We’re here,” Bucky says gently, waking him.

He does feel a bit better after napping for a while, but he still lets Bucky drag them to Steve’s dorm.

“Where are Sam and Natasha?”

Bucky purses his lips. “They left. To be honest I didn’t notice when, but they weren’t there when we got to the bus stop.”

“Oh.” Steve will have to apologize to Sam. That can wait until the next day, though.

“Yeah. Real subtle,” Bucky rolls his eyes. “How are you feeling, though?”

“Better. Here,” Steve gives Bucky his key. Bucky opens the door and helps Steve to the bed, then closes it. Steve hears the click of it and asks, “Isn’t your girlfriend gonna be mad you left her?”

“Nat’s not my girlfriend. We did date for a while, but it didn’t work out.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He’s not sorry.

“Yeah well, we remained good friends so that’s okay. She’s awesome.”

“She is,” Steve admits. “Where did she learn those moves? Where did  _ you _ learn those moves?”

Bucky shrugs. “She has... a complicated story. She was born in Russia but they gave her up for adoption. She was adopted by an American family but they were abusive, so she learned martial arts and self-defense and stuff. We met in middle school and she taught me.”

“Oh. And then you started to date her?”

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah I mean, she was a friend and we were too close. My family sort of adopted her until she could leave her house. She was with us all the time and it just felt natural. But she had a lot of shit to deal with, and then I lost my arm and  _ I _ had a lot of shit to deal with, so it got pretty toxic and co-dependent. And that’s why we decided it was better for both of us to stay friends.“

“I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve. It really is.”

“Okay.”

“What about that guy you were with? Sam, I think? Wasn’t he your date?”

Steve shrugs. He doesn’t know why but he feels the need to explain himself to Bucky. “Yeah, well... Yes, we were sort of dating, but before the fight and all that shit show we had literally just decided to leave it as friends.”

“Oh. Why is that?” There’s a tone in Bucky’s voice like he’s trying not to sound too interested. Steve’s heart thumps.

“We’re too alike.”

“Oh. I see.” Whatever Steve said, it clearly wasn’t what Bucky was expecting to hear.

“Hmmm,” Steve closes his eyes, feeling drowsy.

“Oh no, punk. We still have to tend your war wounds.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“No. Come on, sit up. Do you have a first-aid kit? Or do I need to call a nurse?”

“No, it’s there. In that drawer.”

Bucky takes out the kit, guides Steve to the bathroom. He cleans up the dried blood on his face and knuckles, asks him if it hurts anywhere. Steve says it doesn’t, but Bucky bandages his hands just in case, then helps him to the bed again.

“What was the fight about, though?” Bucky asks.

“They yelled slurs at us.”

“Fuckers. They deserved it then.”

“Damn they did. Wait, does that mean you would’ve helped us even if they didn’t?”

“Well I did, didn’t I? I didn’t know what it was about until now. But you’re a good person, Steve. You wouldn’t go around punching someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Steve doesn’t know why, but it makes him feel warm.

“Thank you. Are you okay, though?”

“Yeah. My hand hurts a little but nothing serious. Didn’t even bleed. It’ll probably be okay tomorrow.”

“My hero,” Steve jokes. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Alright, go to sleep. You’re beginning to talk nonsense now.”

“Okay. But c’mere,” Steve coos, petting the bed. He doesn’t care if he’s coming too strong anymore, too intoxicated with Bucky’s warmth.

Bucky gives him an intense stare that makes Steve feel naked. He turns off the lights and Steve feels his breath catch in his throat when he senses Bucky’s weight on the bed, next to him. He tries not to shiver when Bucky exhales, his hot breath hitting Steve’s neck and ear and making all the hairs on his arms stand on end. Bucky puts an arm around him and nuzzles against Steve.

Steve’s terrified of how much Bucky can make him feel with such a simple gesture.

“I’m still in shock of how you defended me,” he whispers in the dark, his voice raw and vulnerable.

“Well,” Bucky says, his voice soft and sleepy. His flesh hand brushes Steve’s navel over his shirt. “Nobody puts a hand on my boy and gets away unscathed.”

“Your boy?” Steve’s heart is deafening, pounding in his ears. “Hey, Buck, what exactly do you mean,  _ ‘your boy’ _ ?”

But Bucky’s already asleep.

* * *

Steve wakes up with a knock on the door. It’s already bright outside.

He looks at the clock in his room. It’s nearly ten AM. At least it’s a Saturday.

He doesn’t want to move. Bucky is snoring softly next to him, his arm still around his waist. He doesn’t want the moment to end, but the knocking on the door gets more insistent. Bucky shifts in his sleep and Steve decides to get up before they wake him up. He looks too adorable when he’s sleeping.

Of all the people he expects to find, Natasha isn’t certainly one of them.

“Hey lovebirds. Bucky’s with you, isn’t he?”

“He’s sleeping,” Steve says groggily. Natasha smirks.

“Cute. Steve, can we talk for a minute?”

“What is it?”

“Not here. You don’t wanna wake him up, do you? Why don’t we walk around campus?”

Steve doesn’t like this, but he’s curious. And he also gets the vibe she won’t say anything until he agrees to her conditions, so he relents.

“Fine. Let me brush my teeth.”

He does so, washes his face, combs his hair a little. Bucky is still sleeping when he leaves with Nat.

“How are you feeling?” She asks as they leave the building.

“I’m much better. Thank you. How are you? How is Sam?”

“All good.”

“Is he mad at me?”

Natasha smiles warmly. She’s stunning and Steve feels a little bad for her after knowing all she’s been through.

“Not at all. We were amused, to be honest. We even made a bet on how much longer it would take you two guys to get together...”

Steve groans. “Jesus Christ—“

“...but I guess no one won because we weren’t betting on it for it to be just yesterday. That was fast, I mean, really guys.”

“Nat.” Steve interrupts, deadpan. “We aren’t together.”

She cocks her eyebrows. “No? Oh well. I guess I still have a chance at winning, then.”

“Natasha, please—“

“Steve,” she becomes all serious. It creeps him out, the same way it did the day before. “This is what I want to talk to you about. Bucky... he’s a sensitive guy. Always has been, too kind for his own good. But. He’s different now. After the arm thing, he’s...” She makes a pause. “More guarded. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him so smitten, the way he is about you.”

“He’s... he is?”

Natasha nods. “Trust me. I know him. And I’m rooting for you. You seem like a good guy, the kind of one he deserves. But you have to be patient with him. You know who you are. But he’s still figuring it out, and he still has a lot of issues to solve.”

Steve frowns. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I just want him to be happy, that’s all. And I doubt he has addressed this, so I need you to be aware of it.”

“He has. But he’s never told me the story.”

Natasha nods. “Just give him time. Be patient with him.”

Steve smiles. Natasha is like him, he realizes. She’s warm and kind but will take no shit from no one. And she’ll go to the ends of the Earth to fight for those she loves.

He likes her.

“I will. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Oh, and while we’re on it, you didn’t hear this from me, okay? But he’s like, so into this story you’re making. That time you made those drawings of him he wouldn’t shut up about them for like a week. And he’s been writing a lot about this character and the story in general, and freaking out to me because,” and then she makes this eerily accurate impersonation of Bucky; “ _ ‘Nat, should I show it to him? What if he doesn’t like it? What if it’s too imposing? Do you think he’ll hate me?’ _ but his drafts are really good, and they fit the line of your story. You should ask him to show them to you. Otherwise, I don’t think he’s going to.”

Steve can’t help the idiotic smile that spreads across his face.

“He likes my drawings. And he wrote about my story,” he whispers incredulously, mostly to himself.

“Yes, Steve,” Natasha says warmly, gently squeezing his shoulder. “He did. And it’s really, really good.”

* * *

“Hey.”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

Bucky’s expression does something soft. His hair is a mess and he still looks sleepy. All Steve wants to do is hug him and kiss every bit of him.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asks in a raspy voice.

“Much better. I bought bagels for breakfast. And orange juice.”

“Oh. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. As a thank you for yesterday.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I wanted to,” Steve repeats. “Anyway, I just talked to Nat.”

The remnants of sleep disappear immediately from Bucky’s face.

“You talked to Nat?! What did she tell you?!”

Steve chuckles lightly. “Nothing bad, take it easy. She just told me that Sam isn’t mad, that she helped him out, and she kinda wanted to see how we were doing.”

“Oh.”

“And,” Steve pauses; “she might have mentioned something about some notes you made? About the comic.”

The color drains from Bucky’s face. “What?!”

“Yeah — she told me not to tell you it was her, but honestly, who else would it be? Anyway, Bucky, don’t make that face. I’m not mad. I actually really want to read them, if you’d let me?”

“I...” Bucky looks down. “I’m not sure, Steve. It’s your story, the one you’ve been working on since you’re a child. I don’t want to impose anymore than I already have. And those notes... those notes are just random thoughts I couldn’t get out of my head, so I needed to put them somewhere. They were never supposed to get anywhere.”

“Then why did you show them to Nat?”

Bucky blushes.

Steve smiles, pleased. “Remember how excited you were when I showed you the drawing of yourself as Cap’s partner?”

Bucky blushes deeper. “Yeah.”

“You told me it meant a lot to you.”

“You have a point, Steve? ‘Cause I’m about to fucking combust.”

Steve laughs airily. “Yes, of course. Well. It means a lot to me, what you did. No one besides my close friends had ever cared about my stories or what I had to say. Until you. And then I find out that the most talented writer in our class not only cares about and likes my characters, but has also written about me. Like, he’s taking time to do his craft, the thing he likes best, to write about something I made. Do you know how special that is for me?”

Bucky hides his face behind his hands. It’s weird to see him like this — he always looks so confident, so calm and collected.

It’s also quite lovely.

“I-I don’t know, Steve. What if you don’t like it?”

“I doubt that’s possible. I’ve read your work.”

“There’s always a first time for everything.”

“Maybe,” Steve gives in. “But even if I don’t like your notes doesn’t mean I’ll stop liking you, or appreciating the effort. It will still mean something to me.”

Bucky looks at him, eyes worried.

“Please, Bucky?” Steve begs, fluttering his long eyelashes. “Please?”

Bucky groans. “Alright, fine! Just — stop giving me those puppy eyes. It’s gross.”

Steve giggles. Deep down he thinks,  _ I’ll remember that works. _

“I’ll give them to you later today, but you can’t read them in front of me, okay? It’s... I don’t know how to put it. I couldn’t stand to look at your face if you hated them.”

“I won’t—“

“Steve, I’m being serious right now. Please don’t read them while I’m with you. It’s the only thing I ask for.”

“Okay,” Steve says. “Okay, Buck, I got it.”

“Thanks.”

“No,” Steve says meaningfully. “Thank you.”

* * *

Steve spends the afternoon drawing and listening to music. He doesn’t notice the stack of papers that slides through the crack in his door until twilight, when he turns around to rest.

He doesn’t hesitate, ignores the sting in his eyes. This is more important.

Bucky’s handwriting is ugly and uneven, like he wrote everything in a rush. He’s seen Bucky write a few notes here and then when inspiration strikes randomly, and it’s always the same. He writes ugly when he’s inspired because he can’t care about aesthetics when he’s trying to keep up with the rhythm of his brain. It makes something warm spread in his chest, the thought of Bucky being moved by his story.

The first notes are about the Red Skull and Arnim Zola, two of the biggest antagonists Steve had planned for the comic. They’re psychological evaluations based on what Steve had told him and an extensive reasoning on their motivations. Steve is amazed by the complexity in Bucky’s analysis, for he’s turned two clichéd villains into something more than Nazis to punch, especially Zola. He’s also written a bit about Hydra, the evil organization they belonged to; but it’s more like a retelling of facts Steve has told him, as if he’s recalling them to use for future reference.

Then there’s something in parenthesis — it’s about a new character named  _ Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff _ . There’s an asterisk next to the name and it leads to a footnote where Bucky clarifies that this is just something that occurred to him, inspired by the tone of Steve’s story, but he didn’t think of how to include her yet. After all, it was up to Steve to decide if they should even include her at all.

It was obvious who it was based off. Natasha Romanoff was a Russian spy and trained assassin, her codename being  _ Black Widow _ . She was brainwashed and trained by Hydra to work for them, but eventually broke the programming and was supposed to work by Cap and Bucky’s side. There weren’t many more details, it was just a draft.

A day ago Steve would’ve been jealous that Natasha was so important to Bucky that he wanted to include her in the story, but after getting to know her a bit better he thinks,  _ hell yeah _ . Badass but caring, she’s a must-have character for the comic. After all, who couldn’t love Nat?

(He thinks about including Sam as well. And Sharon. He doesn’t know how, but he’ll make it work. They’re too good to be left out.)

And finally,  _ Bucky Barnes _ .

It also starts with a recalling of the facts they have already talked about — Bucky being Steve’s childhood friend, defending him against bullies, then getting drafted and becoming a Sergeant. Steve getting the super-serum in his absence and becoming Captain America. 

Then, the new stuff.

As Captain America, Steve hears that Bucky’s unit has been captured by Hydra, and gets on a mission to rescue them against his better judgement. Turns out that Hydra hadn’t killed the 107th because they were planning to experiment on them, but they chose just Bucky instead, since he was the highest ranking officer. Hydra had made a super-soldier serum based on Steve’s, and injected it in Bucky. Steve saves the unit and now, he and Bucky are even, and can easily fight evil together.

At the end there’s an addendum where Bucky explain he hasn’t thought really that much, so these are just drafts. But Steve is mind-blown. It might not seem like much to Bucky, but he thinks it’s great.

* * *

**stevie**

_ Hey. _

**stevie**

_ I read your notes. _

**stevie**

_ Do you want me to write here what I thought of them? Or would you like us to talk about it in person? _

**Me**

_ holy sht gimme 10mins i’ll be in your dorm _

* * *

Bucky gets there in five.

“Stevie,” he says. Steve is too happy and giddy to berate him for the ridiculous nickname.

“Hey, come in.”

Bucky is biting his lip. He sits on Steve’s chair. “So what did you think?”

“Bucky, these are…” Steve pauses. “I’m mind-blown.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

Steve snorts. “In a good way of course, you idiot. I just...” He trails off, his hands shaking with excitement. He feels like jumping like a little kid, like hugging Bucky. But he doesn’t want to look insane. “I just can’t believe you took all that time to brainstorm and understand the characters. And including Nat? That’s gold. But what I love the most is how you made Bucky and Steve match. It’s absolutely top-tier.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide in disbelief.

“Really?!”

“Yeah! It’s genius, all you’ve plotted so far! It’s the perfect origin story!”

“Jesus Christ, I think I’m gonna faint.”

“What?”

Bucky chuckles nervously, runs his hands through his long hair. “I just... You don’t have any idea of how nervous I was you wouldn’t like it. I was anxious the whole fucking evening, but now,” Bucky sighs theatrically; “I can breathe again.”

“Are you kidding me? I don’t like it, I love it! And I was wondering...” Now it’s Steve’s time to blush. “...if you wanted to work together in this. Like, officially. Mr. Erskine surely won’t mind, in fact I think he encourages teamwork. But only if it doesn’t bother you or you don’t have any other thing in mind, of course. I’d understand it. After all this is just a dumb comi—“

“I’d love to.”

“S-seriously?!” Steve babbles.

Bucky nods, eyes wide. “Steve, I’d... I’d be honored to work with you. I’ve had a blast so far, and to think that you want me to collaborate officially,” he laughs with relief. “Man, I’m so fucking excited.”

Steve laughs back, lightly. ”Me too.”

They smile at each other, sitting closer together. Bucky puts his arm around Steve.

“So. I’d tell you we should plan this a little further, but I’m mentally drained. Do you want to watch a series or something? We can watch that other one you told me, with that guy you like. That Sebastian guy.”

“ _ Kings? _ Okay.”

Steve plays the series and they make themselves comfortable, cuddling on the bed until they both fall asleep.

And that’s not the last time that happens. It almost becomes the norm for them, letting Steve hope just that tiny bit more. 


	6. Chapter 6

Steve’s a light sleeper, being so sickly and all, so he awakes easily at the sound of soft, quiet sobs, one night. 

He doesn’t open his eyes right away, mind still cloudy with sleep. Instead he just lays there until little by little he remembers what happened the night before (as usual, they fell asleep working together) and thinks,  _ Bucky?  _

He opens his eyes. There’s blue-ish light coming from the window, meaning it’s early morning. Bucky is sitting on Steve’s chair, holding his left arm tightly and crying.

Steve’s heart sinks in his chest.

“Bucky?”

A sob gets caught on Bucky’s raw throat.

“Sorry for waking you up,” he says thickly.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, already sitting on the bed. Bucky sobs again.

“Hurts.”

“Physically?”

Bucky winces and nods.

Steve is already all over him in a second. “What do I do?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Bucky!” Steve barks, startling them both. “What do I do?!”

Bucky looks up to him with a raw expression, eyes wide and almost scared. He’s too gentle, Steve thinks. He probably didn’t want to  _ ‘bother’ _ him.

“Could you help me take the prosthetic off?” he finally asks.

“Okay.”

“Talk to me as you do it,” Bucky begs, holding in another sob. Steve’s never heard him like this, and it terrifies him. He’s even more determined to help. “Please.”

“Okay. What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything. Talk to me about your first drawing, or the first comic you read.”

Steve settles for the first one. Bucky half-listens — Steve can tell he’s making an effort; but he also doesn’t blame him when he drifts away, or when he interrupts unusually forcefully to give him instructions. Steve hadn’t paid that much attention to the limb until then, not because he didn’t want to, but because Bucky seemed guarded about it. Finally appreciating it up close, he thinks it must’ve cost a fortune, and he wonders how he must have got it, as he knows Bucky’s not particularly rich. Steve doesn’t know much about prosthetics, but most of the ones he’s seen are very rudimentary, unlike Bucky’s, which is robotic and mimics the functioning of an actual arm, yet at the same time it’s light and easy to take off.

When the artificial limb is gone and there’s just Bucky’s stump left, Steve asks what else he can do for him.

“Could you, um...” The pain must be better, Steve can tell from his voice, but Bucky’s still really pale and sweaty. “Could you massage it a little bit? If you don’t want to it’s fine but—“

“Like this?” Steve’s already doing it. It’s not a magic cure, but that kind of thing helps Bucky feel better.

“Yeah,” Bucky says breathlessly.

Steve keeps talking about her mom’s reactions to his art, how he used to draw Cap since he was a kid, and some other stuff related to the subject while massaging Bucky’s stump. He guesses there are people who freak out about it. He doesn’t mind. It’s not something common, but that’s it. There’s nothing weird or gross about it. It’s just Bucky’s skin, after all.

Steve notices the pain is going away when Bucky starts nodding off. He must be exhausted.

“Hey. Buck. Sleep. It’s okay.”

“No,” Bucky replies stubbornly. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Come closer.”

Steve looks at Bucky in the eye. “What?”

Bucky’s hand makes its way to Steve’s neck. Steve shivers.

“Do you remember what you asked me the first time we went out?”

Steve feels the air leave his lungs.

“Yes.”

“You asked me,” Bucky breathes; “if you could kiss me.”

Steve nods. “And you said no.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Bucky whispers. His eyes are always gorgeous, but up close like that, they’re hypnotic. “You can do it now. If you still want to.”

Steve stares at Bucky for a minute, his heart pounding insanely hard in his chest. He searches for any trace of doubt, but finds nothing. He seriously considers doing it — he’s been wanting Bucky for a good time now, and his lips look so soft. 

But in the end he only settles for pressing a kiss to his cheek gently.

“I’d love to, Buck. But you’re too vulnerable now, and it wouldn’t be right. We can do it when you feel better, if you still feel like it. Just not right now, okay? Now c’mere, take the bed. Sleep it off.”

Bucky must still be feeling bad because he immediately gives in. “Fine. Just... don’t leave.”

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. Now sleep,” Steve kisses his forehead as he helps Bucky get into bed. Bucky closes his eyes, and after a few weak breaths, seems to fall asleep.

Steve lets him sleep. It seems that somehow they always end up like that, but he isn’t complaining. It’s the perfect excuse to draw him and he’ll take it.

He starts with studies. He can’t help himself, he’s naturally curious so he takes the prosthetic arm and draws it in different angles and perspectives. He has to ask Bucky more about it.

He feels sad for Bucky, though. How many times had he suffered from phantom pain? 

Steve’s heard it’s common within amputees, but he’d never imagine how that would be like.

Bucky always looks so insecure and uncomfortable about his arm, prosthetics or not; like he hadn’t come to terms with the fact that it was gone or that it wasn’t  _ ‘the real deal’ _ , whatever that was supposed to mean. Steve guesses it’s normal, but it still makes his heart break a little. Amputee or not, Bucky is one of the most wholesome, kind-hearted people he’s ever known. Steve wishes Bucky could see himself through his eyes, wishes he could get the feeling across. So he does what he’s best at to show it: drawing.

He experiments with Bucky’s look, gives him a black outfit because Bucky’s still mourning his loss. Steve doesn’t like to admit it, but it’s a fact, no matter how much Bucky tries to conceal it.

He draws his long brown hair wilder than it usually looks, because aesthetics. He likes the look so he leaves it be. As for the prosthetic arm, he turns it metal. Bucky’s pretty metal, dealing with the pain on a daily basis. The metal of the arm has to be strong enough that it helps him lift the weight he has on his shoulders. It’s flashy but beautiful, in a way that it can’t be unseen. Yes, people might notice Bucky’s loss, but if they do, then they might as well notice his strength.

The soldier looks feral now. Steve doesn’t know if it’s a good thing — it looks good to him, it shows the strange blend between Bucky’s grief and trauma, but also his resilience and the fight he puts on.

Steve hopes it’s good. At least, it’s truthful. He’s pretty sure Bucky will appreciate that.

* * *

While he sketches, his mind wanders.

It’s not the first time he’s thought about this, if he’s being honest. There’s no denying it now, however — he’s fallen for Bucky, and the idea is too tempting; and it’s also not good that he has the skill to make it come true. If it can’t happen in real life, at least he can make it happen on paper.

He draws the Soldier kissing Cap.

He tears the page off. It’s just a fantasy, but he thinks  _ maybe, _ maybe it can help somebody come to terms with themselves. He thinks about his own experience in the closet and how reading testimonies from other LGBT+ people helped him get through it. Thinks about how powerful — what it would mean to a skinny little gay boy hiding reading comics, that his favorite superheroes were out, proud, and really, really gay.

It’s not so much about his longing, then. Of course, he wants Bucky. But there’s much more than that. There’s power in creation, and Steve wants to use it for the better. He may not be as mighty as Cap, but he can still fight in his own way.

“Steve?”

Bucky’s hoarse voice pulls him out if his thoughts. He instantly smiles.

“Hey, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.”

Bucky definitely looks better, but there’s sadness in his eyes. Steve approaches him, sits on the bed and hands him the sketchbook, flipping through the pages until he gets to the Soldier’s new drawings. He mentally thanks himself for having torn off the page with the kiss, Bucky had been delirious with exhaustion and pain last night. Steve doesn’t want him to think he would pressure him, if he had changed his mind again. 

“I-I don’t know if this helps but I drew you. And I’ve been thinking about the comic.”

“You drew me?” Bucky sounds curious and excited.

“Yeah!” Steve finally gets to the pages he wanted. “Um, there you go. What do you think?”

Bucky takes the sketchbook in his hand, looks at the drawing intently. Steve bites his lip.

When Bucky looks back at him, his eyes have turned cold.

“Are you serious?”

Steve is thrown off by the reaction. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Is this the way you actually see me? As a fucking cyborg? A monster?”

“No!” Steve yells loudly. “Jesus Christ, Bucky, of course not. That wasn’t my intention, I’m so sorry if you see it that way.”

Bucky looks down at the drawing again, lips pursed.

“What is it made of? Metal?”

Steve’s heart is pounding so loudly in his chest that he can’t help but stutter. “Yeah-yes. You’re made of metal, Bucky, all of you,” he says meaningfully, trying to keep his expression warm. “You’re so strong.”

“He turns me into a fucking murder robot, and he expects me to feel flattered about it,” Bucky mutters, mostly to himself but loud enough so Steve could hear it too.

“Whoa, no, okay, stop right there. I’m sorry, okay? That wasn’t my intention at all. If I thought for a second it would make you feel this way then I never would’ve drawn it.” Steve sighs. “It was supposed to make you feel better, powerful. The same way Cap makes me feel about myself.”

Bucky makes a grimace.

“I just — I really don’t need a reminder, buddy. As if I’m not thinking about it 24/7 already.” Bucky lets out a big exhale, rubs his forehead with his fingers. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being a dick. It’s just... there are bad days, you know.”

Steve nods sympathetically. “Gotcha. I’m sorry. I’ll change it.”

“It’s okay.” There’s an awkward silence. “So, what else have you thought about the comic?”

“Oh,” Steve feels himself go bright red.  _ “That.” _

Bucky cocks a brow.

_ “That?” _

Steve’s always been tiny and frail, but he has tried his best to never feel that way. Yet, everything about him feels small and delicate and on the edge of shattering.

“I was thinking — and of course, you can say no — that I should make Steve and Bucky canon.”

“Canon? What’s that?”

“Oh. You know, like an official couple. In a relationship.” Bucky gasps, and before he can say something, Steve goes on. “I-I-I know how this must look like to you but it’s really not about  _ that. _ I think. It would be a powerful statement, y’know? The kind of thing I would’ve liked to read about when I was still in the closet, right? The serum fixes everything that’s broken, so if Cap is able to love a man after the serum, then there’s nothing to be fixed there. He was never broken.”

“Of course, I know it’s your image too, that’s why I’m asking you for permission. I went with him because it’s the most obvious choice, being friends from childhood and whatnot, but if you don’t approve of it I can change it, think about how to introduce a new male romantic interest.”

Bucky shakes his head, jaw set.

“I don’t like it.” He says.

This is the first time Bucky has said something like that about Steve’s art, and it makes his heart sink.

“What?” He asks weakly.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” Bucky presses the bridge of his nose like he’s too tired to be dealing with this. “I don’t think that a superhero comic is a place for progressive propaganda.”

“What are you saying?” Steve says, in shock. “Superhero comics are all about propaganda!”

“Look, it’s your comic, and if you want to put a male romantic interest, whether is Bucky or someone else, I really don’t care.”  _ Except that you do, don’t you? _ Steve thinks bitterly. “All I’m saying is, people won’t like it and you’ll get a lot of hate for it. So why not stick to the action?”

“Because that’s  _ not _ what Steve Rogers is about!” Steve shouts desperately. “And it’s not my comic, it’s  _ our _ comic. For Christ’s sake Buck, why are you doing that?”

Bucky makes a face. “What am I doing?”

“Calling it  _ ‘my comic’ _ because you don’t like something about it. You can disagree with me, you know?”

Bucky actually snorts, incredulous.

“Can I? Okay. Then listen to me: I don’t think Bucky would’ve gone to war again after being rescued by Steve. But of course it’s only Steve’s choice the one that matters after all. He goes on and on about selflessness and self-acceptance but he is. A fucking hypocrite.” Bucky’s nose flares. “You want to make something revolutionary, pal? Why don’t you have him fighting the bad guys as he was before the fucking serum? And Bucky, why don’t you have him fight without the prosthetic?”

“In a war? You’re fucking crazy. You know as well as I do that wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t even make it past Brooklyn, and you know it!”

“Of course I know it! Aren’t you supposed to make me believe it’s possible, though?” Bucky argues back, raising his voice and then dropping it again when he adds, “Just accept it — you hate being the way you are now.”

Steve’s expression falls. “Wha— okay, you know what? I can’t talk to you right now ‘cause you’re being an asshole and I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.”

“Oh, okay. Just go, take the easy way out.” Bucky retorts heatedly. The anger leaves Steve for a minute, making him feel weak and tired.

“There’s no easy way out from you, Buck. Don’t you get it?” he sighs. “Talk about being a hypocrite when you can’t even accept what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Mr.  _ People-won’t-like-a-male-romantic-interest. _ Just accept it — it’s not that people don’t like it, it’s that  _ you _ don’t. You’re fucking terrified of it.”

“Oh come on!” Bucky interrupts. “If this is about you and me, Steve, do I need to be more clear? It’s  _ not _ that way. I don’t like guys, stop projecting yourself onto me.”

Steve feels his heart drop into his stomach, his body feeling cold. “Yeah, right. Am I talking to the same guy who called me his boy? The same guy who asked me to kiss him just a few hours ago!”

“I... I don’t know,” Bucky’s voice drops. He looks ashamed. “I’m confused.”

“You’re confused?  _ I’m _ confused! Stop sending mixed signals if you’re not ready to face this. I’m not gonna be your experimental phase, so get your shit together or stop wasting my time.”

“Where are you going?! This is your fucking room!” Bucky shouts as Steve leaves. Steve doesn’t care. He closes the door with all his strength and runs away, searching for a place where he can cry freely.

* * *

** _i’m so fucking sorry_ **

_ (entry #402) _

_ you’re big news, the front page _

_ i’m the footnote _

_ i’m the pages in the middle that got stuck together and no one ever reads _

_ except that _

_ you did _

_ J. B. B. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Bucky**

_ hey Steve. _

_ i know a text it’s not the way to do this, but i left for the weekend. and i needed to say i’m sorry. _

_ i was a total asshole, but i think in a way this is what we needed. this was never gonna work and you deserve a better friend, someone who’s less fucked up than me. _

_ i wish you good luck with the comic. don’t listen to all the crap i told you the other day, i know it’s not an excuse, but I was in a bad mental place. and i fucked up terribly, but please know that i didn’t mean any of it. _

_ the truth is that you’re crazy talented and people are gonna like and read your comic no matter what you write about. you’re gonna be a fucking legend, trust me. and i don’t want to keep you from the success you deserve, so i’m cutting myself out. don’t worry about me (‘cause i know that you’re selfless like that) i’ll figure out what to do for my project. i have a few ideas here and there that i could make work. _

_ you can keep the ideas i gave you, the ones you like. you can even keep bucky, do with him what you like, even make him a villain if you feel like it. the truth is i don’t care, i probably deserve it. _

_ i wish you the best. and sorry for the long ass text. _

* * *

Steve’s body aches to the core, but he can’t bring himself to stop; hands tired, back crooked. He’s been drawing nonstop for hours.

It started being something different than what he usually does, much more personal. It had started being scribbly doodles of the angst and frustration he was feeling about Bucky, about himself, about the world.

When the frenzy wore off a little bit, he got back to drawing Cap and the other characters in action, fighting, angry. The Widow, Sam Wilson (he still had to think of an alias for him, but he was thinking something like a bird, to match the wings he had given his suit), Sharon, Peggy.

Bucky.

He drew the Sergeant in his suit, fighting hand to hand, shooting. And then he drew the Soldier, the one with the long, messy hair. He was a dark ink spot in his notebook, moving fast, fiery, savage. He had a knife. Steve didn’t want to think about the stuff Bucky had told him before so he drew a muzzle on him to shut him up. It was cruel, he knew, but this had always been his way of venting.

He didn’t know what to do anymore.

He was alone, he always had been.

The truth is, he didn’t want to keep Bucky in the story anymore. It just made no sense and it would hurt him to have to draw him over and over again knowing that they had fallen apart.

So he killed him off.

He sketched the comic panels. They were on a mission and Bucky fell off a train. Cap couldn’t reach him fast enough.

Goodbye Bucky.

He cried after that, feeling like the villain in his own story.

Bucky was… 

Bucky was good, but he couldn’t keep him.

It was too much to ask Steve to go on without him after finding a person he could finally relate to, someone who cared about him and what he had to say and that had actually experienced the brokenness and frustration he felt all the time about the unfairness of life.

So he kind of killed Cap as well.

He had planned on Cap nosediving into the Arctic a long time ago, as a way of introducing him into the modern world, but he had never really found out a way to make it work. He knew that being a super-soldier meant that he could’ve survived the swim to the nearest shore, or he could’ve given his coordinates to Peggy, or whatever, so it was a plot hole. But now it made sense. He just didn’t want to keep going without someone who understood him like Bucky did.

He drew the panels too, those ones sketchier; he was already exhausted. Then he dropped the pencil and cried himself to sleep.

* * *

** _PTSD_ **

_ (entry #459) _

_ the truth is I’ve been worrying so much about stuff _

_ that didn’t really matter _

_ that i feel like i’ve lived through everything and nothing, _

_ in all places and never really at once _

_ blink and you’ll miss it _

_ i might not even be there _

_ J. B. B. _

* * *

** _ghost story_ **

_ (entry #17) _

_ i became a little morbid after they wrecked me, but it’s always been there — i remember ghost stories, enjoying them a little too much for my own good. _

_ never thought i’d become one. _

_ my first memory of this life is from when they took us to arlington cemetery in a school excursion. we visited the tomb of the unknown soldier and i remember being so shaken by it that i cried the whole way home, and i didn’t know why it made me so sad. _

_ i guess i can say now that it resonates. _

_ J. B. B. _

* * *

Steve barely gets any sleep whatsoever. It feels like he had just closed his eyes when his alarm rings. He groans. His whole body is aching, still, like when he’s about to get sick.

There’s a feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach. It’s a Monday and his first class is with Mr. Erskine. Seeing Bucky terrifies him, but it also terrifies him what he’s going to say to Mr. Erskine. He was pretty excited with the latest draft they showed him, the one with Bucky’s origin story as Cap’s partner. Steve doesn’t know what he’s going to say about this one.

In the end one of his worries is futile, because Bucky doesn’t show to class.

Mr. Erskine doesn’t say anything until the class is over. The moment Steve was dreading comes when the professor calls him before he can escape. “Mr. Rogers, could you give me a minute of your time?”

Steve knows he has no choice. Prolonging this conversation would be futile.

He sits in front of Erskine’s desk.

“I have something quite serious to discuss with you.”

“It’s about Bucky, isn’t it?”

Erskine nods. “Mr. Barnes has sent me an email, letting me know that he was out of town for personal matters and also that he’s no longer collaborating with you and will send me a draft of his new project soon.” The man looks at Steve sternly, then his gaze softens. “What happened?”

Steve swallows. He just wants to lay down and sleep for 70 years, like Cap.

“We decided it was better this way. We split up because of creative differences.”

Erskine purses his lips. “I see. And what are you planning to do now? With the story, I mean.”

Steve tells him, shows him the drawings. Erskine barely makes any comment until Steve is done, which unnerves him.

“I mean, it’s not bad.” Erskine sighs. “But you have to stop doing this, Steve.” Steve’s eyes widen. It’s not the first time Mr. Erskine talks to him on a first name basis but it’s certainly uncommon, and he hates how he sounds like he cares. Like a father figure, maybe. He can’t stand it.

“You can’t keep including everyone who enters your life and then kill them off or find a way for them not to appear in the story anymore when you have a falling out with them. I won’t lecture you about your personal life because it’s not my place, so I’ll stick to the storytelling elements. If you keep doing this then your readers are going to get bored. You have to keep a few regular characters. So maybe you should make some up, if it’s too painful for you to keep drawing the people who aren’t in your life anymore.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, drained. His heart is beating too fast.

“And I’m sorry if it comes out too mean, but if you’re planning to do this for a living, you can’t let your personal life affect you so much. If you want to become a comic artist or an author you’re gonna have to draw even if things aren’t going well for you.”

“I know. I’m aware of that.”

Erskine raises an eyebrow, the silent question present there. _ ‘Are you really?’ _ Steve knows he means, but he’s thankful when he lets it go.

“All right. One last thing. Is there a way Mr. Barnes and you can sort out your creative differences? You make a great team, and trust me, it’s really hard to find a perfect partner.”

Steve shakes his head and gets a bit dizzy. _ Whoa. _

“I’m sorry. I don’t think so.”

Erskine clicks his tongue. “What a shame. Don’t get me wrong, the Captain is very interesting on his own, and I don’t doubt you’ll make it work, but Bucky added a whole new layer to his character that wasn’t there before. I won’t ask you to keep him, because it’s your story after all, but do consider it. Or add a similar element in the character, a new sidekick, or a team, whatever works for you.”

Steve nods. “Noted. Thanks, Mr. Erskine.”

He smiles slightly at Steve. “You’re welcome. Don’t be discouraged, okay? Your work is outstanding on its own. These things happen, but I’m pretty sure you’ll sort it out.”

“Thank you.” Steve stands up shakily, the anxiety wearing off, but something else taking its place, sapping his strength. Light seems too much, his body is too heavy. He sways, feeling tired and lightheaded. He spots black dots and the last thing he hears before hitting the ground is Erskine calling his name.

* * *

When he wakes up, he recognizes the place instantly. He’s been here more times than he’d like to admit.

The infirmary.

Steve sighs.

“Hey, uh. You woke up.”

He looks to the side. He knows the voice. It’s…

“Bucky.”

“The one and only.”

“What happened to me?” Steve frowns.

“From what I’ve heard, you collapsed from exhaustion after Erskine’s class.” Bucky exhales audibly. “Seriously, Steve. The doctor said you hadn’t eaten and you barely slept. You’re prone to illness, you should know better than to overwork yourself like that.”

“Yeah, well, that’s none of your business,” he says, because even if he’s a little bit happy that Bucky is there, he’s still pissed off at him. “How did you know I was here?”

“I went with Mr. Erskine to talk about my project as soon as I got here and he told me what happened.”

“Ah.”

“Yup.” Bucky looks at his hands. He’s wearing the prosthetic, Steve realizes. “Anyway, I came here to apologize in person. I’m really sorry for all the shit I said the other day. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I know I screwed up pretty badly.”

Steve arches an eyebrow when Bucky doesn’t go on. ”And?”

“And?” Bucky mirrors, confused.

“Why are you here telling me this? If you’re not asking for forgiveness.”

Bucky looks like a lost puppy. He looks down, ashamed, and rubs at the back of his head.

“I don’t know.” 

Steve tries to hold himself back. He knows Bucky means well, and he knows he’s being mean. The fact that he’s there means something and Steve rarely had someone visit him when he was sick. He remembers Natasha’s words, _ ‘Be patient’ _, and thinks how hard this must be for Bucky.

“Fine.”

“Fine? Fine as in, you forgive me?” Bucky looks up, hopeful, and Steve hates what it does to his heart. Is he really that happy?

_ Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me. _

“Fine as in, I can see this is hard on you and you’re a good guy so I’m gonna give you another chance to apologize, but you’ll have to give me better than _ ‘I don’t know’ _ because I have standards.”

Bucky smiles, bashful. “Okay.”

“Can you ask the nurse if I’m allowed to leave?”

Bucky does as he’s told. Steve is allowed to, but she warns him to eat well and rest. Bucky assures her he’ll make sure of that and Steve rolls his eyes, but lets him help him to his room for he still feels a little lightheaded.

Bucky helps him to the bed as well. When Steve is lying down he can appreciate the nervousness Bucky is trying not to convey, for he doesn’t know where to stand or sit. Steve decides to help him out, pats the bed. “Here, lie with me.”

Bucky bites his lip. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am, so I call the shots. Now come here or I’m gonna be madder.”

Bucky smirks. “Guess I’ve got no choice then.”

He does as he’s told. They lie in the bed face to face, and Steve can’t help but to think how beautiful Bucky’s eyes are. He wishes he could tell their real color.

Bucky stretches out his prosthetic hand and pets Steve’s hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I got scared.”

Steve _ knows _, because he’s been through it too, back then, when he found himself fantasizing about other men. But he needs Bucky to say it out loud so he can know he’s serious, he’s willing to cross that bridge for him. So he presses.

“Scared of what?”

“Y’know,” Bucky looks down. “How I feel about you. What you mean to me.”

“And that is?”

Of all the things Steve was expecting, Bucky’s lips on his was not one of them. It’s not an incredible kiss, or skilled, or really a kiss at all, just Bucky pressing his lips to Steve’s, showing rather than telling what he means.

And Steve is just… in shock. He can feel the soft tremors in Bucky’s hand, like he’s holding back or he’s that nervous, or maybe Steve is shaking with exhaustion? Who even knows?

“Am… am I too late?” Bucky asks as he pulls away, sounding utterly miserable.

And that, more than anything, makes Steve’s mind up for him. He shakes his head. “No. No, Buck, I— I’ve been waiting for that,” he admits, and Bucky’s smile is just as breathtaking as ever.

“Well, then,” he replies, and pulls Steve back in. This time, Steve responds eagerly, finally knowing just how soft Bucky’s lips are, and oh god, he is really, really good at kissing. Steve’s not used to letting other people tell him what to do, but he follows Bucky’s gentle lead easily, tilting his head so that Bucky can deepen the kiss, parting his lips on a sigh when Bucky licks gently along the seam. He can’t help but tighten his fists in Bucky’s shirt at the first taste of his mouth. 

They make out for a little while until Steve feels too dizzy and breaks the kiss breathlessly.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, bumping his sweaty forehead against Bucky’s.

“Are you okay? Shit, Steve, I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

“It’s fine, just give me a minute.”

They stay like that for a little while. Then Bucky speaks again, “I want to tell you about the arm.”

Steve opens his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want you to know.”

Steve kisses Bucky’s forehead, threads his fingers in his long hair. God, how much he’s been waiting for this. He’d been holding back so hard. “Okay.”

“It was before I went to college,” Bucky begins, pressing himself closer to Steve. Steve lets him be the little spoon, holds him tight. “I was pretty interested in space and science back then. So I applied to get a Stark Industries Internship to build spaceships and related technology. I was pretty sure I wasn’t gonna get it, but I did.”

“It was good,” he goes on. “Got to meet Howard Stark himself and his son, too, Tony.”

“You met the Starks?!”

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles darkly. The vibration of the sound against Steve’s neck sends a shiver through his spine. “Man, they’re fucked up. But Tony’s our age, so we got along well. Made a lot of friends there: this young genius, Bruce. And this Norwegian dude whose name no one could ever pronounce so we called him Thor.”

“Thor? Like the Norse God?”

“Yup. If he was a real person I think he’d look like him. Anyway, ever hear about the terrorist attack on Stark’s Tower like five years ago? It was in October.”

“Everyone heard of it,” Steve says. Then it hits him. “You were there?”

“Yes. I was there with Thor, Tony and Bruce. We were selected to work with him in a secret project when the explosion happened. I-I don’t know what the hell I was even thinking, but the minute it happened I flung myself over Tony, shielding him. I guess I just thought he was more important than me. And then I remember pain. Lots of it, then nothing. And when I woke up,” Bucky sobs. Steve feels tears wetting his shirt. “When I woke up, I had no arm.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” Steve whispers in a choked voice. Bucky weeps against him, his whole body shaking intensely as his sobs grow louder. Steve sniffs and tries to hold back his tears, resonating with Bucky’s pain, but this is not about him. He has to hold it together for him.

Bucky grieves the loss of his arm for a long while. Steve says nothing, knowing it won’t make it better. So he just strokes Bucky’s back, kisses his hair and forehead every so often, murmuring hopefully soothing words in his ear.

Eventually, the sobs fade. Bucky goes still and his breathing slowly goes back to normal. Steve almost thinks he’s fallen asleep when Bucky picks up where he left off.

“After that,” he says in a thick, raspy voice. Steve lets him go on because he knows he needs to let it out. “After that, none of them got too hurt, except for me. But Howard was thankful, and Tony too, so they paid my medical bills. And designed the prosthetic especially for me, as a _ ‘thank you’ _ gift. Tony’s been upgrading it ever since, it’s why I go away every now and then for the weekend.”

“Oh. So you’re friends with Tony Stark?” Steve asks, faking nonchalance. He must suck at it because Bucky chuckles wetly.

“Yeah. He wants to meet you, by the way.”

“You talked to him about me?!”

“Of course. He’s read the comic.”

“You showed him the comic?!” Steve’s voice gets higher.

“Yes! Showed Thor, too. And Bruce. They’re all fans. Thor and Bruce are dating now and they’re full on board with the idea of making Steve and Bucky canon, by the way. Tony says he doesn’t care, the story is too good already so we might as well take the risk. He even says he can make Howard buy one of those big ass comic companies, whichever you want.”

“What the _ fuck, _” Steve hisses, because how are you supposed to reply to that? Bucky laughs and brings him back to the moment. His face is red and puffy from crying, but Steve is glad that he’s feeling better.

Bucky is so, so brave.

“So?” Bucky presses. “Can we hang out with them someday?”

Steve groans. Even if it wasn’t probably the best shot he’ll ever get in his life, he can’t say no to Bucky when he’s looking at him like that.

“Alright,” he says, then he allows the excitement overtake him. 

“OhmyGodIcan’tbelieveTonyfuckingStarklikesmycomic.”

Bucky’s laughing. “I don’t think he’s gonna like it if you call him that.”

“It’ll be our secret,” Steve presses his lips against Bucky in a quick peck, then smiles wide. 

“Fuck, Bucky. You’re the best.”

“I know.”

* * *

“So, after I recovered I didn’t want to take part in the project no more. It was too traumatic.” Bucky tells Steve later that afternoon, when the mood is calmer. They’ve been kissing and laughing and talking all the while. ”I went to a psychiatrist, too. Took antidepressants for a while. It was ugly, but it got better. She told me writing would do me good, since space and science were too much for me anymore. And Steve, it was so _ cathartic, _” he breathes. “Then I understood that I wanted to do this. For the rest of my life. Is that how you felt when you discovered art?”

“Sort of, yeah.” Steve admits. It’s a bit different, for he’s been doing art since he was a small child, but the sentiment is the same. “After my mom passed away, art was my only friend, the only one that could understand me. Until I met you.”

“Aww, you’re a sap,” Bucky says, giving Steve’s nose a little peck.

* * *

“I have something to confess.”

They’re still laying on bed, Bucky nuzzling against Steve’s neck.

“Hmm?” Bucky mumbles drowsily. Steve shifts so they’re face to face again.

“Bucky, I… I did something terrible,” he confesses, tears pricking at his eyes.

“What? What happened, Steve?”

“I…” Steve trails off, dreadful. God, he wants to throw up. Bucky is going to hate him for good now.

“Stevie, please. Whatever you did, just tell me. You’re killing me right now.”

“I…” Steve tries again, then squeezes his eyes shut. “I killed off Bucky Barnes,” he mumbles.

“What?”

Steve opens his eyes again, at the verge of tears. “Bucky Barnes. In the comic. I was pissed off at you, so I k-k-killed him off.”

“Fuck,” Bucky spits. Steve shuts his eyes again and starts thinking of how to make Bucky less mad, and then…

And then Bucky starts laughing.

“Fuck, Steve, you scared the shit out of me for a second.” He’s holding his stomach now. There’s an edge of hysteria in his voice. “Please don’t ever do that again, _ what the fuck.” _

Steve blinks.

_ What? _

“Wait, wait, are you really not mad at all?” He inquires hysterically. “I killed off your character and you’re not mad at all?!”

Bucky gets a hold of himself, calming down slowly. He wipes some tears off his eyes and holds Steve with a little too much force, then kisses the hell out of him. Steve is completely frozen into place and he lets Bucky hug him after, even if it’s hurting him a little bit. His eyes sting, and then Bucky whispers something in his good ear that makes it impossible to fight back tears anymore.

“I always knew that you were a little vicious, my lion.”

* * *

** _soldier boy_ **

_ (entry #505) _

_ i’ll be honest, Captain America never made as much sense to me as it did today when you became undone between my fingers. i never understood the magnitude of the war you fight everyday — a soul too big, too bright, too strong for such a small frame. and i get it now. america is the body, the part of you that should support you, that should be going along with your desires but instead gives its back to you and spits on your face. _

_ and i know that feeling. i’m a soldier too, except i don’t fight much against my body, you see, but my mind. and maybe this is why we get along — partners in the school yard and battlefield, aren’t we? always fighting a war we may not have a chance at winning. but damn we try. _

_ damn we try. _

_ J. B. B. _


	8. Chapter 8

Aside from art, another thing that Steve has liked since he was little, was reading. It’s his mother’s doing, for she used to read to him when he was too sick, unable to leave bed and unable to even draw. He’s read many things, which in turn stimulated his imagination, but the one thing he loves the most are novels.

Sarah Rogers was never one for outdated gender roles, so she read him many types of novels. Even the ones that were catalogued _ ‘for women’ _ , like _ Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre. _

_ Little Women. _

Steve is really fond of that one in particular, and there was one scene that made a really big impression on him when he was little. In one of the chapters, Jo was mad at Amy for burning her manuscripts. She went out ice skating with Laurie, and Amy went after, but she didn’t hear the ice was thin in the middle, and Jo ignored her.

Amy fell into the frozen waters.

It turned out okay, but he remembers how upset he felt about it, how scared it made him that he could be like Jo, letting his temper get the better of him at times and causing pain to the people he loved because of his rashness. And now he sort of had done it — Bucky said he wasn’t mad, but Bucky was so selfless all the time, and Steve could have destroyed what they had built together if it wasn’t for Natasha’s advice. They had worked it out this time, but who could assure him he wasn’t going to fuck up for good in the future?

He voices all of these thoughts to Sam and Sharon over dinner.

“Hey man, breathe, you’re gonna get an asthma attack,” Sam reminds him. 

Sharon is looking at him with sympathy. “Steve, it’s okay. Yes, you screwed up but you realized your mistake in time. Just like Jo did in the book.”

“Yeah, plus, you said he was pretty chill about it, right?” Sam reassures. “You have to trust him. It’s okay.”

“Yes, but I killed him off. I know it’s just a comic, it’s not real but I was so angry and at the moment it felt so right,” Steve admits. “It scared me so much.”

“Hey, you said it yourself. It’s just a comic. It’s not like you’re going to actually kill the guy, y’know?”

“Yes, Steve. Plus, I’ve known you for a while. I know that you get overwhelmed sometimes and art helps you vent those feelings out. It’s fine, we all get those thoughts. As long as you’re channeling them through your art, then it’s alright. It’s healthy. And he knows you,” Sharon adds. “He admitted you were a little vicious sometimes. That’s fine. He knows what he’s dealing with, and he’s pretty much in love with you anyways.”

Steve gives a rueful smile. “You know, I still can’t believe it sometimes. That a guy so kind, so sweet, and so incredibly smart and brave would even bother to look my way.”

“Oh shut up, you know he’d say the same about you,” Sharon rolls her eyes. “You guys are exactly _ that _ kind of couple.”

“Yeah, and I mean, are you talking about the same guy who ditched his best friend to look after you after that fight? You guys completely forgot about us that night,” Sam says, pointing at Steve with his fork.

Steve chuckles. “I already said I’m sorry for that! You’re never gonna let that go, are you, Sam?”

“Nu-huh. This is why you’re paying for my dinner, by the way.”

Steve’s eyes wrinkle when the smile finally reaches his eyes. “Okay. Thank you guys, you always make me feel better.”

“Awww, this is what friends are for,” Sharon winks at him. “Now come over here, I’m gonna FaceTime Peggy. She’s been asking about you.”

They talk to Peggy. She looks radiant — she always does, but she also looks absolutely happy. She tells them everything about the school, her projects, her new boyfriend. And then Steve tells her about Bucky and she gives a little yelp of excitement, genuinely happy for him.

She says goodbye and promises them she’ll visit next summer. And then it’s the three of them, Sharon, Sam and Steve having fun and laughing and Steve feels like his heart is about to burst from happiness. This is friendship. This is family.

* * *

Bucky calls him that same night at 3am.

“Stevie,” he whispers.

“Buck, aren’t you supposed to be with Tony and your other friends?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “So, I got thinking about the comic, and I came up with some pretty good ideas.”

Steve sits up, runs a hand through his hair. “Shoot.”

“Okay, so, do you mind if I sort of resuscitated my character? If you do then that’s okay, I’ll come up with something else.”

“What?” Steve’s interest is piqued. “How?”

“Well, you know how Bucky got the serum too?”

“Yeah, so?”

“The serum prevented him from dying from that fall,” Bucky explains. “Steve thinks _ ‘he’s dead, there’s no way no one would survive a fall like that’, _ so he doesn’t go looking. But Bucky survived, he just lost an arm.”

Steve looks down, saddened. “Oh.”

“No, it’s okay. I want this, I want you to draw me with the metal arm.”

“Wha— Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. I finally got what you mean, what you felt through Cap, and I guess _ it is _ kind of empowering. So I thought, how do I make this happen? And well…”

“What?” Steve asks after Bucky lets the pause linger a little too long. “What happens next? Wait, let me grab something to write.” He does. “Okay, now. Tell me, I’m listening.”

Bucky goes on, satisfied that Steve is absolutely absorbed in the story. “Hydra captures Bucky-” Steve gasps. “-And they keep experimenting on him. Give him a prosthetic metal arm, torture and brainwash him. They turn him into an assassin and they freeze him between missions so that he won’t age. So, when Cap is de-thawed, they are more or less the same age. Except that when they finally meet again, Cap doesn’t recognize him at first because he’s wearing that muzzle thing you put in some of the sketches. And like, war paint and shit. And did I mention _ he has a fucking metal arm?” _

Steve is hit by so much information that he can’t quite process all of it. But he knows this is a creative rush, he knows Bucky needs to let it out because it’s heavy and important and it won’t leave him alone until he does.

“So anyway, are you listening? Are you writing this down? I hope so because I haven’t. Anyway, well, they get into this huge ass fight, and Cap accidentally throws the mask off him and then Bucky looks at him and Steve freezes and is like, _ ‘Bucky?’ _ But he doesn’t recognize him, and Cap is heartbroken and all like _ ‘I’m not gonna fight you, you’re my friend’ _and shit like that, and no matter how many times Bucky’s been brainwashed and tortured and dragged through hell, his love for this dude is so powerful that he starts remembering, and breaks the programming Hydra put him through for like, 70 years.”

Steve’s hand aches from writing so quickly, yet he can’t help but smile.

“So,” Bucky finally breathes; “what do you think?”

Steve whistles. “I think we got ourselves a story, babe.”

* * *

“I’m glad you came back to your senses, boys, because this is absolutely fantastic.” Erskine tells them in the empty classroom, a delighted smile on his face.

Bucky’s face lights up. “Really?”

Mr. Erskine nods. “Absolutely. I knew it, you guys make an amazing team. Don’t let that go.”

“We won’t,” Steve replies with conviction.

“It’s good to see you so determined. I’m not gonna lie to you, Mr. Rogers; I was worried for a minute you would lose your track. But anyway. I have great news for you both. Yesterday, when I got Mr. Rogers’ email that you were back to working together, I emailed a few samples of your art and characters’ description to an ex-colleague from when I worked at Marvel Comics,” he pauses. “...and they’re interested in your story.”

Steve and Bucky gasp. It turns out they might not need Tony Stark’s help, after all.

Steve nearly jumps out of his seat. Bucky is completely shocked and hugs him back automatically when Steve launches at him, completely euphoric. Erskine smiles, lets them have a moment, and then clears his throat.

When Steve breaks from Bucky’s hold, his face is teary.

“So what I basically wanted to tell you, it’s that for me, you guys have already passed the course, and your final degree project is practically done. You’ll still need to make a presentation but it’s more of a formality than anything. What I need you to focus on now it’s on making a pitch. I’ll talk to my ex-colleagues to set a date for it and I’ll get back at you. I’ll help you work on the pitch. But I need you to focus on clearing up some details from the comic before it’s ready.”

“Details like what?” Bucky’s voice sounds strange even to him, choked.

“Details like the state of Cap and Bucky’s relationship. You need to decide if you’re gonna go with it or not.”

For the first time, Steve can’t even talk, so Bucky does.

“Okay. We’ll talk about it.”

Erskine nods. “Great. I’ll speak with you soon.” He smiles again, squeezes their shoulders. “Congratulations, guys. You deserve it.”

* * *

“I have a question.”

“Shoot,” Bucky says, holding Steve’s hand as they walk to his dorm. It feels surreal, light. But Steve is serious, his thoughts a little dark.

“Of all the things you could’ve written, why did you come up with such a sad story for the Soldier?”

“It’s not sad,” Bucky corrects. “Yes, he suffers, and yes, he lost himself, but in the end it’s the power of love — both the love Steve had for Bucky and the love Bucky had for Steve — what brings him back. It’s what makes him keep going. And yes, he might never be the same again, but that’s okay. He can live with it.”

“But— Bucky, do you really feel like this, I—“

“It’s okay, Steve.” Bucky puts an arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulls him close and kisses his hair, and Steve feels the frown disappear. “It’s a process. If you’d seen me two years ago, you’d see how much better I’ve gotten. And-” Bucky swallows, “-ever since I’ve met you it’s even more so. I won’t tell you I’m happy, because I’m not, but I’m finally hopeful again and that means so much more than you can ever imagine,” he breathes. “So, so much more.”

* * *

** _amnesia_ **

_(_ _entry #599) _

_ you asked me why i came up with such a sad story and the only thing i can tell you is that. sometimes bucky doesn’t remember. even after he meets Steve again, even after he saves him. sometimes bucky doesn’t remember and maybe it’s something he’ll have to deal with for the rest of his life, those gaps in his memory he can’t bring himself to fill after years of trauma. _

_ and i’m the same? _

_ when i first got depressed i started forgetting things. my therapist told me it was normal, something called _‘dissociative amnesia’._ It’s like years of my life have been taken away from me, a distant blur i might never be able to recover. _

_ i’ve never tell you this, yet, but sometimes i still forget. sometimes i sit in my bed and i can’t remember _when did the day pass by?

_ (and yet i remember the important things.) _

_ this is why i told you it’s a hopeful story. because there’s another thing the soldier and i have in common: we will never be able to forget _you.

_ J. B. B. _


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky convinces Steve to visit the Starks that weekend. Steve won’t admit it out loud, but he’s nervous.

The place is impressive. Big windows that let daylight come through, a minimalistic but modern approach, luxury everywhere. The butler, a man named Jarvis welcomes them and takes them to Tony’s lab. Steve gawks at all the technology around. He imagines Bucky’s face the first time he saw all of this and it makes him smile to himself. If he’s impressed, a techy like Bucky must have been as excited as a five year old at the playground.

Tony Stark is typing something in his computer. He’s just a kid their age and he looks the part, but man, the things this guy can do.

“Hey, Tony,” Bucky greets. Tony looks up at the mention of his name and approaches them.

“My, my, my,” he smirks. “I see you finally brought that boyfriend of yours you’re always talking about.”

If Steve wasn’t as thrilled as he is now, he’d make fun of Bucky’s blush.

_ (It’s adorable.) _

“So, this is the famous Captain America,” Tony says theatrically, once they’re face to face. 

Bucky clicks his tongue. “Isn’t it too soon for you to be a dick?”

“Hey, I mean it in the best way possible. It hurts me that you’re always expecting the worst of me.” He feigns offense. Steve gets the feeling that everything (or most of it) this guy does is a part of an act. But then his brown eyes turn sincere as he puts one of his hands on Steve’s shoulder. “Big fan, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Steve replies with a smile. He likes this Tony better.

(It’s a rare sight, but it’s worth it. The guy is actually good underneath; Bucky tells him later that night.)

“So, did Bucko here told you what I told him? Have you thought about getting published? Do you need help? Stark Industries has nothing to do with comics but it’s never too late to begin. I can tell Howard to buy Marvel or something. If you want.”

Steve can’t believe Tony is willing to help them that much, but then again he guesses it’s really not a big deal with all the money and influence his family has; plus he owes Bucky big time.

“That probably won’t be necessary, Tony.” Bucky squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “One of our teachers told us he got us a pitching session with some of his ex-colleagues from Marvel Comics.”

“Did he?” Tony’s eyes widen. He smiles sincerely, a seemingly unusual event. “Wow, congratulations. You deserve it, guys. I’ve never been interested in comics but yours is really good. If you ever need help, though, my offer still stands.”

“Thank you,” Bucky replies politely. Steve knows Tony means no harm, but his statement still irks him somehow.

(He doesn’t need help. He can get by on his own. He’s not useless. He’s not talentless.)

“We’re hoping it doesn’t come to that,” Steve answers. “But thank you.”

Both men give him a look. Bucky appears annoyed and a little embarrassed. Tony just seems surprised.

“What Steve means—”

“Oh, I know what he means,” Tony answers, shaking his open palms. “We’re all hoping that. I’m just saying that people that work for big companies sometimes act like dicks.” Tony purses his lips. “Trust me, I know it firsthand. Anyway, Barnes, bring your ass over here. I need to check that arm — I’ve been doing my homework too, and I might be close to a breakthrough.”

* * *

Tony invites the so-called Thor and his boyfriend Bruce to come over for dinner. Steve is a little shy at the beginning, getting much more praise than he’s had in all his life from all these people he barely knows; and watching Bucky interact with them like no time has passed at all. It makes him happy to see him joke around and have fun because he’s had to deal with so much shit, so he deserves all the good times he can get. 

And it’s even better that Bucky tries to include him in the conversation, even in the telling of anecdotes Steve wasn’t there to see. So he loosens up and joins the conversation easily enough — these are good guys, but then again, he couldn’t expect less from the people Bucky chose as friends. 

Steve has a good time too, he realizes when he notices the pain in his cheeks after laughing so much.

* * *

“Sometimes it creeps me out how well you can see right through me,” Bucky confesses in a whisper that night, as they lie next to each other in bed. There’s something dark and indecipherable in his eyes. “It’s like you can see my past and my future.”

“Why do you say that?” Steve asks, unsure.

“You saw the blueprints Tony showed us today after he examined my arm. Prosthetics are getting more and more complex, and what if one day I actually have to wear a fucking metal arm? Like the one you drew weeks ago, before you even  _ met _ Tony.”

“Pffft, Bucky, that’s ridiculous,” Steve scoffs; then notices how serious Bucky has gotten, and immediately feels bad for making fun of his fears, no matter how far-fetched they might be. 

He cups Bucky’s cheek. “Hey, look at me. Steve loved Bucky before he had a metal arm. And Steve  _ loves _ Bucky after he gets one. Just like I do. And just like I will, if it ever comes to that.”

Bucky’s lips tremble and he hides his face in Steve’s neck. Steve just soothes him, plays with his hair until he feels Bucky fall asleep.

* * *

The weekend at Tony’s had been a nice little distraction, but all good things come to an end and so it comes the time to seriously think about the pitch.

Steve is silent the whole way home. Even when Bucky tries to make conversation, his answers are faraway and monosyllabic.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bucky tells him as they walk side by side through the quad. “What are you thinking? And don’t tell me  _ ‘nothing’, _ Rogers. You’re creeping me out, are you coming down with something?”

Steve rubs a hand over his face, processing. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… I’ve been thinking about what Tony said for the whole weekend and I think that… maybe we shouldn’t mention Steve and Bucky’s relationship in the pitch,” Steve exhales worriedly. “Maybe we should leave it as a subtext-kinda-thing, you know, like just hint the possibility of it and let people interpret however they want.”

Bucky stops walking. He’s frowning. “Why?”

Steve shrugs, nibbling at his lip. “I don’t know.”

“Steve... You’re nervous, right?” he asks, and Steve knows what he means and he’s so thankful that Bucky is considerate enough to replace  _ ‘scared shitless’ _ for  _ ‘nervous’ _ .

Bucky is always kind like that.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes out weakly. “It’s just...” he knows he’s getting too worked up, but he can’t stop it anymore. “It’s just that I’ve worked too fucking hard for this, Bucky. I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a little kid, and I know it’s not the most ethical thing in the world to contradict myself right now but I  _ need _ to get this shot, and what if they turn me down because they’re gay? Oh God, this is such an awful thing to say — it feels like being in the fucking closet all over again but it’s that or failing and  _ I can’t, _ I just can’t, my mama worked too hard for this and  _ I’m so tired, Buck—“ _

“Steve, Steve, calm down, okay? Shhh, everything’s gonna be alright,” Bucky coos as he pulls Steve into a hug. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. It’s not such a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal! Bucky’s one of Steve’s greatest motivations!” Steve cries.

“Yes, but so is justice and doing the right thing,” Bucky states confidently. “They are together because they love each other, but they can easily survive on their own. And do their work right. And honestly? I think that’s beautiful. The level of devotion these guys have towards each other because they love each other so much, but they are their own individual people too.”

Steve purses his lips. He knows Bucky’s right, but he can’t help feeling so guilty. “Yes, but... Them being together, it’s about—“

“Making a statement. I know, baby. But it doesn’t have to be right now, okay?” He assures him, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We have to make sure we get in this industry. Once in we’ll figure the rest out. We always do, just like our characters.”

Despite the storm of feelings in his chest, Steve can’t help but smile a little bit. He lets Bucky hug him back again.

“You called them  _ ‘our’ _ .”

Bucky smiles too, a faint little thing. “Of course.”

Steve’s smile grows a tiny bit wider. “Okay.”

“We can tell them they’re friends. For now.”

“Okay.”

Bucky breaks the hug to look at Steve. “Are you okay? It freaks me out when you’re not trying to pick a fight. It’s not like you to be so pliant.”

Steve guesses Bucky is right, because he’s not even in the mood to argue. He shrugs and reclaims his hiding place in Bucky’s chest, holding him tight. Bucky hugs back, as if instinctively.

“I guess... I just wish I could be more like Cap all the time. Y’know, standing up for what I believe in,” Steve’s voice drops low. “It just… it feels like I’m failing him right now.”

“Screw Cap.”

It’s Steve’s time to break the embrace.

“Hey!” He barks at Bucky, who just giggles.

“No, but seriously, I mean I adore your creations, baby, you know it. But I’d take Steve Rogers over Cap anytime. He’s much better.”

“Really?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

(He’s not the type to ask for praise, really, but this time he craves for it.)

“Well, he’s so much more dimensional, y’know? Cap is very much a part of him, I know, and he’s so admirable for his bravery. But it’s just a persona. Steve is the whole thing, and I love him, even if he gets confused at times, even if he gets scared. That makes him much more human, and I love that about him.” He rubs Steve’s back tenderly. “It’s such a shame that just a few people get to see that, but that makes Bucky one lucky bastard. And I bet he’s proud of it.”

Steve can’t help it, he laughs softly. “I love you,” he says naturally, like it’s a universal fact; like the way Bucky would pick Steve over Cap anytime.

Bucky ruffles his hair. “Love you too, punk. You’re not alone on this one.”

For the first time in a long time, Steve feels like it’s true.

* * *

Bucky knows how to make things better, but deep down Steve still feels a little bit sad. So in the night, when he’s alone, he sketches. Somehow he feels like Cap’s classic uniform doesn’t fit what he’s feeling right now, so he creates somewhat of a darker look, something that fits the confusion of how much he feels like he’s wandering through a dark path he can’t see the end of, where it will take him.

Wandering.  _ Wanderer,  _ he thinks, then frowns. No, that’s not a good name. Better something like…

_ Nomad _ , he ends up writing at the end of the page.

* * *

Bucky goes to visit his family over the weekend. Steve is kind of bummed out still, so he doesn’t want to go despite how much Bucky insists.

The morning he leaves, Steve wakes up to a text message from him.

**Bucky**

_ baby. i know you were upset over the comic, and i know that maybe it won’t solve the problem, but i couldn’t stop thinking about it and i wrote this for you. _

_ miss you already troublemaker xx _

Bucky has sent a picture. Steve opens it. It’s a photo of something handwritten. It reads:

** _multiverses_ **

_ (entry #616) _

_ for Steve _

_ as someone who loves science, people don’t take me seriously when i tell them that it’s a miracle the fact that we’re here, in this moment, at all. but i mean every word of it. _

just think about it, babe. _ think of all the things that could’ve went different. what if the attack in the stark tower had never happened. what if you had never gotten a scholarship. what if you’d turned me down that time i asked to look at your drawings. the universe is too big. maybe there’s a place, somewhere in its vastness, where all of these variants are true. _

_ and yet, here we are. _

_ we hold the same power. there’s so many things we’ve discussed about the comic, so many things that could’ve went different. _

_ and why, oh why, should they be less valid? _

_ i don’t know if you’re gonna go with your idea or if you’re gonna keep it on the down low for now. both are fine, i’ll support you no matter what. but just know that even if they take our characters away from us, (because corporations are greedy like that), there’s always a way to fix it. there’s a universe where they are together and happy, and even if we don’t get to publish it, it belongs to us and it’s as true as the other ones are. and if there’s a thing that’ll remain constant till the end of the line, of every line, it’s that i love you, and that i’ll always have your back. _

_ so don’t fret, Stevie. there are many universes to pick from. _

_ J. B. B. _

* * *

Steve goes out that afternoon, buys a bouquet of flowers and visits the cemetery where his parents are buried.

“This one’s for you,” he whispers before he leaves.

* * *

Bucky gets back on Sunday. They spend the night before the pitch talking, practicing again and again, drinking coffee. And sometimes making out, too. They know they should probably rest, but they also know they won’t be able to get much sleep. This is a big shot, and it means too much for them.

It’s around four or five in the morning when Steve starts drifting off, curled against Bucky.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispers. “Hey, Stevie, don’t fall asleep just yet. I have something important to tell you.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Steve says, his eyes already closing.

“No. Just bear with me, it’ll take me one sec.”

“‘M listenin’…”

“Liar. Hey,” Bucky shakes Steve gently. “Listen, no, actually listen to me, please,” Bucky begs, stroking Steve’s slightly greasy hair. “I know you’re tired but don’t sleep just yet, this is important.”

“Hmm?” Steve groans drowsily.

“Steve, seriously.”

Steve frowns and opens his eyes. It’s the urgency in Bucky’s tone is what makes him do it anyway.

“I’m listening,” he repeats grumpily.

Bucky stares at him intently, as if testing he isn’t going to close his eyes. Steve is trying his best and Bucky seems to realize it, so he nods.

“This,” he points back and forth between the two of them. “is very important to me. I’d like to promise you forever, but stuff happens and sometimes the future isn’t what we want it to be.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Steve asks, suddenly wide awake. Bucky smiles a bit sadly.

“No, you idiot. But I want you to know that if anything were to happen between us, if this... doesn’t work out for whatever reason, you can still always count on me.”

“Bucky, don’t talk like that.”

“Why not? You never know. And I want this to be clear. I owe you so much, Steve, and I love you.” Bucky pauses, letting the words sink in. “As a lover, yes, but more than that. You’re my best friend in the whole world. And that’s more important.”

“Bucky...” Steve whispers, eyes getting glassy. He knows what Bucky means. Other people aren’t interested to get to know people like them further than a superficial level. Yet, in a world that threatens to forget them, to make them feel like they aren’t enough or they don’t deserve to be listened to, they have found someone who will.

And that makes them the luckiest people in the world.

“Even if we fight, if we break up, hell, even if we have a falling out because of the comic or whatever. No matter what, no matter if we haven’t spoken in years. You can always come to me if you need anything. And I will help you out, because,” he pauses; “because I’m with you till the end of the line.”

Steve can’t help it, he’s already crying. It’s just too much, these days. So he hides his face in Bucky’s neck and lets him love him. Once he feels able to speak again, he whispers against his skin.

“Till the end of the line.”

* * *

They wake up with so much energy and it’s weird because they barely got a few hours of sleep. Or maybe it’s exactly because of that and it’ll catch up with them later.

They… don’t speak much. Everything’s been said already.

Mr. Erskine is already waiting for them when they arrive to the classroom. He tells them two of his ex-colleagues are already waiting inside. It’s a man and a woman. The man introduces himself as Phil Coulson, the woman as Maria Hill. They ask them about the first volume’s story. Bucky and Steve look at each other — Bucky nods, and Steve begins.

It’s a strange feeling, he thinks. He thought he’d be more nervous but as he starts speaking, the feeling dissipates quickly. He knows Cap too well, so it comes naturally to him. It’s weird, though, sharing his heart and mind with those strangers and not feel as shy as he used to. Maybe he was meant for this after all — maybe he just needed a little boost of confidence, like Bucky’s proud stare on him as he speaks.

It goes extraordinarily well. Phil and Maria delighted and they even ask for a second book, at which Steve and Bucky exchange a look and Bucky confesses they only have one for the moment, but they can talk about what they have planned for the next one.

In the end they also try to be as vague as possible about the homosexual relationship in the comics but Maria picks it up anyway, and points it out.

“This is a wonderful story,” she says. “But I have an observation. Cap’s romantic interest, Peggy Carter, right?” Bucky and Steve both nod. “She’s great. And they make sense together, at first. But after he’s de-thawed then… I don’t know. I know this is an action story but I do think that people would sympathize more with it if we kept a romantic interest for the long run, I mean, after Peggy. And maybe I’m reading too much into it, but from what you tell me you’ve plotted for a possible second arc, with Cap’s partner coming back as… the Winter Soldier?” She looks for confirmation, which they both give. She shrugs. “I don’t know. It almost feels like a love story.”

Steve freezes.

He should have known better, he thinks. Here he thought they were being so subtle and it turns out the woman who’s been hearing of this characters for like ten minutes already knows what they’re up to. They’re staring and Steve doesn’t know what to say, their faces too blank to give him a little clue of which direction he should lean to. And then it hits him —  _ is this what Cap would do? _ But it just freaks him out more because  _ no, Cap wouldn’t freak out like that in such a moment, would he? _

Steve swallows, then feels something warm touch in his hand. He turns left — it’s Bucky, but Bucky isn’t looking at him. He’s staring straight ahead, at Phil and Maria, as he holds Steve’s hand bravely and gives it a squeeze.

“That’s because it is.” Bucky replies.

Maria smiles, looks at Phil. He nods.

“We love it.” She says simply.


	10. epilogue

_ some years later _

* * *

**Schoolyard, Battlefield, and the Legacy they never thought of: a Conversation with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes**

_ Written for The Daily Bugle Special Edition Magazine _

_ By Peter Parker _

It’s a lovely summer day in the heart of Brooklyn, where the Rogers-Barnes residence is located.

RJ, the son of the famous marriage, opens the door for me. He greets me and takes me to the living room, where my childhood heroes are already waiting for me. I must get too nervous that my accent betrays me, because Steve Rogers smiles his brightest and asks me where in New York I’m from. After that, it becomes easier.

Their story is already known. Rogers and Barnes met in college, when they both took a class on Storytelling. That’s where their collaboration took off, and the legendary love story between two super-soldiers and trauma survivors began. The comics caused a huge divide for their incredibly political and progressive stance, and became insanely famous in a flash. After the first two arcs being a success within comic readers and the third one being published, the rumors of a movie began. The movie was a success and sprouted a new genre in superhero movies, a fresh take that many of us thought long lost. It also was the beginning of the _ Marvel Cinematic Universe _ phenomenon, which recently this year concluded it’s Fourth Phase with Captain America and The Winter Soldier going back in time to meet one last time with friends and family, close cycles, retrieve a thought-lost friend, and move on to the future.

When I ask them if they weren’t scared about people’s reaction on such a _ ‘controversial’ _ ending (a gay couple being happy and learning to live past their trauma together), it’s Barnes who replies.

“We were scared shitless,” he admits. “Not only us, but the people at the Studios in general. Some of them were with us, some others advised us to play it safe. But you know Cap.” He pats his husband’s back gently. “He’s stubborn like that.”

“There are times when you have to take a stance,” Rogers continues. “Captain America is never afraid to speak up about controversial topics and fight for what he thinks it’s right. Sure, it would’ve been much more comfortable to play it safe, but we couldn’t betray these characters like that.”

I ask them how they feel about the people who disagreed with the prospect of Steve giving Sam Wilson the shield. Rogers answers this one.

“I felt enraged. For being the land of freedom and progression, we still have much to work on. Racial prejudice was a subject that was thoroughly discussed during the making of this film, but if anything, it motivated us even more to bring it up, to face it. And Sam Wilson is a very worthy man.”

I tell them that some people were sad not because The Falcon got the shield, but because Bucky didn’t, and I want to get their thoughts on that. I, of course, direct this particular question at Barnes, who has suddenly become very serious.

“I think that people don’t understand that you become a different person after trauma, and sometimes it takes a very long time to accept that it’s valid and it’s okay. I think people don’t get that Bucky, as this new person, is still trying to figure himself out, that he’s been through a lot and carrying that shield would put a bigger burden on his shoulders. Steve, of course, gets that, and he wouldn’t put him through that. Think about it: Bucky’s been a soldier, then a weapon, then a soldier again. It’s time for him to be just Bucky, whoever that is now.”

“It’s not about _ ‘not being worthy’ _ or something like that,” Steve adds. “Bucky is more than capable of carrying that shield. But he deserves peace, too. He deserves freedom.”

The love that is put into this story is evident when you see the way Rogers and Barnes talk about their characters, in the way they look at each other. Is the reason it’s close to many people’s hearts, myself included: it feels truthful and emotional.

I move on to talk about the Black Widow and how many fans were glad they got her back in the end, but some people were displeased given her past. Barnes scoffs.

“Listen, there are always gonna be haters. Plus, Nat’s a very close friend, did people really think we were going to give her such a horrible ending?”

“Yeah. That moment when she sacrificed herself wasn’t even our doing, it was the studios’ idea for more drama. Even as the original creators there’s only so much you can do sometimes,” Rogers rolls his eyes. “So we had to agree, but on the condition that she would come back, that they would find a way for her to come back when returning the stones.”

“People are so unfair. I think that they’re not ready to see a woman like Nat on screen, someone who’s independent and career-oriented, but that can also be caring and nuanced. You know, like women actually are,” Barnes completes.

I aim the next question particularly at Rogers, about how he feels that a lot of people have said that Captain America’s values contradict America’s actual values. He replies with confidence.

“I think those people have been watching different movies or reading different comics because it’s actually quite the contrary. Captain America is all about progression — you can’t stay in the past. Just because people expect to see something more ‘traditional’ doesn’t invalidate people who aren’t like that. Heck, it would be so hypocritical of us to promote a ‘traditional’ American family when we certainly don’t have one. And Steve and Bucky have a very loving, honest, and hopeful relationship. They bring the best out of each other and they help the other one move past their issues. They deserve a chance to be happy in retirement.” 

As if to emphasize his point, the couple’s white cat, Alpine, jumps into Barnes’ lap. It’s hard to see why people would be so upset over two men living together with their son and their cat, a very much a loving family like any other. It’s endearing.

I ask them about their future projects. It must be difficult for them, saying goodbye to such a big era of legacy and success in their lives, but they remain hopeful and excited for what is to come. Barnes is working on a new book, a novel. I ask for more details but he can’t give them to me just yet. As for Rogers, he’s thinking of setting up a Public Arts Academy to give back what his main influence, Professor Erskine, gave him. So far, he says, it’s just an idea, but let’s be honest, he’s the kind of man who does bring his ideas into fruition, especially when they involve helping other people. They are known for donating to charities to many causes, after all.

I wish I could stay and talk more with them but unfortunately the time for the interview is getting to an end, so I ask a final question, a conclusion on what would they like to say to their fans.

“I guess I just want to say that everyone struggles and some days might be worse than others. Even superheroes deal with their mental toll, and they’re not less strong because of it. Screw toxic masculinity, screw gender roles, and screw stigma against mental illness. You are valid and strong and we need to talk about these subjects more often. It took me years to figure that out, and the fight is never really over, but recovery is possible. Everyone deserves to be happy and loved,” Barnes concludes.

“Representation is important, as well as defending what you think and fighting for what’s right. You don’t have to be a super-soldier to do it: look at me, I’m just a scrawny boy from Brooklyn. I could’ve never fight the bad guys like Cap does, but I found my way to do it — art is important, it’s loud and it’s a powerful tool to speak about things that matter. Don’t hesitate to raise your voice, to bring awareness, and to fight for the oppressed. Only then we can bring a better future.” Rogers finishes, and it’s clear to me then more than any other time, that these men are already heroes, super-soldiers or not.

* * *

_ end. _


End file.
